Shy
by hsm753
Summary: He was a boy with a dream. Wanting nothing more than a successful career and to give him something to be proud of. He always felt like he was better off alone. Then, he met a newcomer who was just like him, and friendship is born. Shawn/Triple H
1. Chapter 1

**No Copyright intended. I do not own WWE or its characters.**

Chapter 1

He walked down the halls of the building, his eyes locked in front of him, but also keeping them lowered towards the tan tiled floor, awaiting for the signal to go through the curtain and face the millions of fans awaiting in the arena. His wrestling boots hit the ground with a thud every time he walked this way, but he wanted his boots to keep him unnoticed. His long hair fluttered past his shoulders and hit the sides of his face when he turned the corner, easily wiping it away, keeping a confident look on his face. He shuddered at the fact of the crowd even when he was delighted by them. He loved seeing the smiles on everybody's faces, but some not as much. Some wont smile, but only give him looks of disgust. He hadn't forgotten that night in Miami, when one-third of the crowd cheered him on and no one else cheered, only disgust. Shawn didn't understand it at all. Not one time had a full audience reaction had been made except for when, well, he won the championship. That was three weeks ago, and he loved the audiences' reactions so much that night he had to stay in the ring and embrace the moment. Embrace the reality that seemed more like a dream than what was.

He looked over his shoulder, and saw the title. It wasn't a dream. It was his dream. He had wanted to be someone in the industry, but it turned out to be harder than he expected. He had a passion for his career as a wrestler, but it didn't seem to give back what he was putting out. He was trained by the best, fought the best trainees, and even got to win a championship on the best night of the wrestling business industry. But it was still hard for him. He still had to face his own insecurities.

He smiled when he saw a couple of girls in the corner, then lowered his head when their eyes met his gaze. He looked at the floor, and thought he could hear whispers fade past him as he walked away from the girls. They weren't really of any importance to him. He wasn't really feeling like talking tonight. Not talking at all, for that matter.

As another turn came into view, Shawn immediately stopped walking and looked at the title again. He smiled, the title pushed into the palm of his hands, knowing he gave it his all and it was worth it. He felt proud of what he had become. What he was, and how he could become stronger. He wanted to keep the title, its golden appearance stinging his eyes that he had to blink a few times to see straight again. It felt cold in his hands, and its weight was lighter than what was expected of a priceless treasure.

He knew he felt safe in this part of the world. By himself. Knowing what he has done right for once without the intent of hurting himself to an almost month off. He didn't want any time off, he loved the business so much. He remembered his parents, how they called that night, and they said how proud they were of him, knowing he had finally followed his dream.

He was caught up in the appearance of his thoughts that it hit him hard across his back. He felt the coldness of the ground as he tried to regain his footing and trying to push up with his arms, but the impact of the fall was so hard he had to stay there to collect his breath. He coughed, then tried to sit up...only to be pushed back down, his forearm gripped, followed by a pulsing pain that left him screaming. The title was in front of him, his forehead almost touching the slick black sides.

"Well, if it isn't the Heartbreak Kid."

Shawn managed to look up, but his forearm was gripped tighter behind his back as his face was almost crushed against the floor. He had to scream again to ease the pain. He felt his lower back begin to burn.

"Still favoring my championship? Huh? Answer me!"

Shawn heard the voice and, through his gritted teeth, said, "Y-Y-Yes...B-Bret."

The pain decreased as Bret let Shawn's forearm hit the floor, Shawn groaning from the impact and from all the pressure of the hold. Bret chuckled when he saw how pitiful Shawn looked, lying on the floor stomach-first, his breathing deep, and his arms and legs dangling like they were limp.

"You're pathetic," Bret Sneered, then hit his boot into Shawn's stomach, causing him to yell. "Let me tell you something: that title will be mine again, and when I meet you in that ring again, I'm going to hurt you so bad the audience is going to think that the 'entertainment' is too good to be true."

Shawn winced from the pain, his body crawling towards the wall, trying to grab it to pull himself up. He felt his head getting pulled back, his hair aching at the roots, the pain from his lower body and forearms aching at every step Shawn made so Bret could see his eyes lock with his.

"Just remember," Bret said, his grin as evil as it was. "I'm coming for you, you ugly, selfish coward."

Then, Shawn felt the floor again, this time leaving him breathless as the cold floor touched his skin. Shawn coughed, and couldn't stop. He heard footsteps fading away from his ears, and it was a signal that Bret had left. Shawn collected his thoughts for a second, getting up onto his knees, and finally caught his breath, trying to get away from all that had just happened. Not to remember it. He saw the title in the corner of the hall, and, quickly, picked it up with his hands. He looked at it, the appearance still the same as it ever was. Shawn closed his eyes and sighed. He didn't want no one to see his true self, but, truth was, he already had shown it. He wouldn't talk around anyone in that locker room. He didn't want to.

Opening his eyes, he decided to get up. No use of making a scene.

He touched his stomach, burning from the pain, and got his legs straightened. He managed to use the wall for support, then, he finally made it to his feet, the title still hanging limp in his hands. Shawn looked in the direction Bret had gone, and knew that he was headed towards the locker room. Shawn collected himself, able to hold his own as he began to walk down the same path, trying to clear away the bad memories of what just happened. It seemed to work, but it snuck back upon him when he was trying to think of something else, such as the match tonight.

Shawn passed the corner, to were he saw a man with a golden coat on and a grin that shocked the appearance of the room. Shawn tried to look down, but didn't get a chance to when he was slapped on the back by the man, his grin overpowering the pain Shawn had already had to face. Shawn winced, stopping in his tracks as he almost lost his balance. He managed to regain it in time to see the man in front of him.

"Hey, Shawn, good luck tonight," Million-Dollar Man Ted Dibiase said, grinning. "Your gonna need it when you get beat up by the Hart Foundation. By the way, how's Razor and Diesel?"

"Okay," Shawn said, his eyes locked on the floor, trying not to meet the gaze of the other man. "Their all okay."

"Are you okay?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then I got something for you."

Shawn shuddered to think of what the Million-Dollar Man had in store. Fake cash, if it was anyone's guess. He looked down at Ted's outstretched hand, which consisted of a couple of one-hundred dollar bills.

"I know that's fake." Shawn whispered.

"What?"

"I said it's fake. I don't want your money."

"Okay, I get it. You think since your the champion you've got everything. Well, I'm okay with that. I know what it's like to be champion."

"I don't-Look, I appreciate your money, but, no. I don't need it and I'm sorry."

Then, Shawn walked off, his head already hurting from Bret's attack. Now, it was only getting worse from the way Ted's smile and golden coat were looking as it they were polished before the show. Even his back was hurting from the way Ted slapped him.

Ted's smile faded. He had fooled many superstars, but not Shawn.

"Freak." He whispered.

Shawn's gaze at the end of the hall gave him a chance to collect himself, but couldn't help but remember the week before, when the Million-Dollar Man slapped him across his face for no reason. Shawn shuddered, the impact of the slap already coming back to him. He was in so much pain he didn't want to find out why Million-Dollar Man slapped him. Maybe it was a champion to superstar thing.

Now, Shawn had no where else to go but forward. He was looking for something to do, and realized he could easily go talk to Diesel. But, then again, he was too busy preparing for his match. He remembered now that he had left his bag on the floor of Diesel's locker room. He decided to head in that direction. After all, it was a few doors down.

Shawn's aching body lead him to rub the back of his neck while his eyes were locked on the floor, not wanting to look up and see who could have been at the end of the hall waiting. He knew it was best this way.

It was quiet from all the thoughts in Shawn's head that he crashed into another wall, and onto the floor. This time, Shawn landed on his back, the impact harder than ever before. He groaned when he felt the burning sensation crawl up his back and he knew from the way it hurt that he had to put ice on it.

He looked up, and saw a figure blinded by the light from the ceiling. He sighed when he tried to sit up and, without warning, was gripped by his arm, gently, and was quickly on his feet. Shawn kept looking at the ground as he clutched the title, waiting for a slap or hit. Instead, the gentle grip loosened on Shawn's arm.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there. Are you okay?"

Shawn looked up as the figure kept looking at him, able to make sense that the figure could have been younger than he was. Shawn looked back down as soon as he saw his eyes, nodding in agreement to himself being okay, but couldn't help but think if he had seen this wrestler before. He decided to look up again, and the other man smiled.

"You don't talk much?"

Shawn shook his head, his eyes on the floor again. The other man was wearing blue jeans and a green t-shirt that looked as if it had been worn to a gym. He pulled back a string of his hair and decided to adjust the title onto his shoulder, his palms sweating.

"Ah...your the one who won the championship."

Shawn closed his eyes, waiting for one hit. One slap on the back. One slap even to his face. No one could understand how he even became champion.

"That's nice. Someday, I want to become champion. I'm proud for you and keep up the good work."

Those words made Shawn look up, his eyes almost wide, the figure's face three inches from his, and he quickly saw that the man standing before him wasn't a wrestler he hadn't seen before.

"Well...uh...I gotta get going. My match is up next and I don't want to make a bad first impression."

Shawn nodded in agreement. He felt the same way when he first came into the wrestling industry.

"Well...maybe I'll see you soon."

And, with that, the man walked away. Shawn collected his thoughts when he looked up and turned to see the back of the man's head, flowing with long blond hair, his hands dug into his pockets. Shawn gave a little smile.

"Thanks." He whispered.

Shawn turned his gaze back to the locker room area, walking down the half-dark hallway in order to get where he was going. He looked at the room numbers from the corner of his eye, able to make out each number from its small form on the doorway. At least he had good eye sight. He paused in the center of the hall, where he quickly found Diesel's room and, walking to the doorway, he thought he heard laughs, then whispers. Shawn turned, two superstars happened to be on the other side of the hall. Shawn turned his gaze back to the door and, sighing, his hand on the door handle, he went inside.

The room wasn't all that big, but big enough for a wrestler to work out or prepare for the match. The walls were painted in golden brown, while the floor was a shade of white carpet. Shawn saw his bag in the near corner, and quickly walked towards it.

He dropped onto his knees and quickly opened the bag, seeing the many clothes and attires, but, for some reason, they weren't his. Shawn adjusted the title on his shoulder, but decided to let it fall to the ground next to him. Shawn wasn't in the best of moods, and now he surely didn't want anything more to happen.

He turned around, and his thoughts of being hurt were already before his eyes.

His things: the attires of red and white and black, the hairbrush, the toothpaste, toothbrush, headbands, and his normal street clothes, where scattered over the locker room floor. Shawn gasped and quickly raced over to his things, getting off his knees for the moment, then, he was back on them the next when he tried to pick up his things while looking for the bag. Shawn spotted it hanging on a coat hanger on the wall, and he grabbed it, yanking hard to where the hanger broke off. He now felt anger, more anger emerging when he saw his attires all jumbled together, the chains all tangled and not in place as they should have been. He saw a white object on top of the attires, and stretched his hand to grab it.

With the object in hand, Shawn realized it was a piece of paper. Shawn saw its blank appearance as his blue eyes looked all over it, then he turned it over.

There, in big blue ink, the word spoke out: "Loser."

Shawn had seen it all, but hearing it was the worst. He heard a chuckle from behind him and, turning his head, he saw Bret standing in the doorway with his two teammates chuckling behind him, their hands trying to cover their mouths.

"Do you see me laughing?!" Shawn yelled, the paper clutched in his bare hands.

"Oh...little Shawn is starting to get upset. Please, spare me your anger. I've got more business to attend to than waste my time with a loser like you, little H-B-K Loser!"

Bret laughed as he walked away from the door, his teammates doing the same, their chuckles and laughs louder than what it should have been like.

Shawn growled under his breath and, out of all the anger inside him, clutched the paper and ripped it in half, then ripped it again and again until nothing but little shreds of paper was all over his lap and the floor. He buried his face in his hands and felt tears coming close to the brink of his eyes.

He also felt the tears on his face. How they managed to get there was still a mystery.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Razor walked into the locker room, his face swollen with bruises, a towel dripping water over his shoulder. He rubbed it in his short hair as he approached the doorway to the bathroom, waiting to change out of his attire and into his normal clothes, his job done for the night. He gave a little smirk as he attempted to open the door, his hand not letting the knob turn. The knob on the door wouldn't turn but only a few inches. He tried again, but it was still the same.

"Bret," Razor sneered, his grin wider. "He locked the door again. How he does it, I don't know."

Razor attempted again, but no use came. He tried to twist it harder, but only the lock prevailed against him. He grunted, and let his hand slide off the handle, it sore from all the effort.

"Is somebody in here?!" He called, his ears at attention.

He adjusted the towel, and decided to try to knock. He did so, leaving a small dent in the doorway he was that strong. He chuckled when he could have thought it was Bret's doing, but, then again, it could have been anybody.

Razor knocked again. "Hello?!"

He heard a small noise. He put his ear to the door and listened closer. The noises were coming from inside the bathroom, and he grinned when he heard the noises becoming louder. Footsteps were heard along with the noises.

"Hello?"

The footsteps grew closer, and, in an instant, the door opened. On the other side, Shawn's blue eyes were entranced with red streaks that looked like veins filled with blood. He sniffled as he opened the door completely, his hands going limp at his sides, his chest and back sore from the attacks, small bruises visible on his skin. He sniffled again when Razor walked into the room and turned on the fosset, allowing the cold water to touch his hands as he gently applied it to his face.

Shawn sighed deeply, his head throbbing, same as his body. "What happened to you?"

"The question is, what happened to you?" Razor wiped his face off with the towel.

Shawn looked into the main room, his back resting against the door as his eyes locked onto the floor, his attires in a jumbled mess. He had tried to untie them, but broke down trying. He almost had no grip applied at all to his effort.

Razor had looked at Shawn, his appearance not as steady as when he came to the arena. He was like that every time and it seemed to get worse since he won the championship.

"Who is it this time?" Razor asked, his hands gripping the towel.

Shawn looked at him, his eyes serious. He sighed. "Bret..."

"Ah, him. He's nothing, Shawn, don't pay attention to him. He's just mad because he lost that belt your looking at right now."

"Not the belt, Raz, my attires. Bret jumbled them! The chains are all...twisted! It's hard to get them undone. I've tried!"

Razor chuckled. "Shawn...he did that to me one time and I got the knots out perfectly."

"Yeah, well, that was at a house show and you already had one on. I don't even have one attire on and all of mine are jumbled together like-" Shawn collected himself, wiping away tears. "Like I'm nothing but...a...loser."

"Shawn-"

"It's true! Bret says so! I say so!"

At this point, Shawn began crying harder than before, his tears flowing out of his eyes hard and heavy, his sobs piercing the silence of the room. Razor was shocked at Shawn's words but, then again, he wasn't surprised. Anyone who said something about Shawn, Shawn would take back. It was that easy.

Shawn's face was buried in his hands, his sobs coming through clear as day. Razor sighed and adjusted the towel again. He couldn't do it. Approaching Shawn wouldn't be an easy thing to do. He tried to think of ways to leave the room but, then again, he didn't want to leave. His mind wasn't made up, and Shawn made it up for him in just a quick instant.

"Shawn...calm down, okay? We'll...just...talk to Diesel, okay? Alright?"

Shawn refused to look up, his face buried in his hands so deep he wanted to suffocate. "I don't understand...what did I do wrong? What did I do wrong?!"

Razor kept his feet planted where they were, not allowing himself to recollect Shawn. He wanted to see his friend be okay, but this wasn't the best moment to give him a hug. He didn't want to ruin Shawn's cry. His hands ran through his hair as Shawn's sobs became sniffles his breath trying to make it out of him. Razor saw his comb on the counter and noticed how jagged it looked compared to what it was earlier on. He could have sworn their wasn't a chipped-off part of the teeth. His heart jumped when he saw Shawn try to grab the comb from the corner of his eye, jumping back when Shawn's fingers almost touched the tip.

"Give me it!" Shawn yelled, his sobs returning, his face red as his eyes were blood-shot.

"No, Shawn! Calm down! I don't want you to hurt yourself!" Razor managed to get the comb over his head, his arm longer than Shawn's and wider in length. Shawn crashed into Razor as he tried to get it from his hand relentlessly. He even tried to jump to get the comb, but was unsuccessful at all the attempts.

"No! Shawn, stop! I'm not giving it up...and your not gonna hurt yourself trying!"

Razor slammed Shawn on the ground as he brought his arm down with the comb intact. He gasped when he realized what he had done, Shawn lying on the ground on his side, his sobs loosening but still strong.

"I'm sorry, Shawn...but I'm not allowing this again."

"I was just...going to...brush my hair."

"Liar. You were gonna hurt yourself with this comb weren't you?"

Shawn looked at the ground, his breathing slowly beginning to come back. His thoughts were clouded with the things he wanted to do to ease his pain. Just one little ease and he would be okay. Just one.

"Please...Raz...please..."

"No. Let it go, Shawn."

"Please..."

"No."

Razor looked at the comb, its teeth still jagged and chipped. He looked back at Shawn, his eyes wide as he sat there, waiting almost for the moment to strike. Razor sighed, knowing the deed had been done, and Shawn was already hurting enough, both inside and out.

"Did you do it...again?"

Shawn looked at the ground, his mouth shut tight. He curled his fists to where his fingernails dug deep in his palms. He wanted to scream, but he couldn't find the strength to do it. His throat already began throbbing from all the sobs, and he wasn't in the best mood to talk. He wanted to be silent.

"Shawn, answer me: did you do it again?"

Shawn kept his eyes on the floor, his eyes once again filled with tears. "Y-Yes."

Razor sighed deeply, realizing what Shawn had truly done. He looked at the comb again, its teeth still in their jagged to abnormal forms, and looked up at Shawn, who was now beginning to rise to his feet, his hands limp as his sides. They possibly could have been hurting.

"Shawn..." Razor said slowly, his feelings not wanting to subside. "Why did you do it?"

Shawn shrugged. His only response. It drew anger out of Razor, his feet stamping the cold tile as he walked over to Shawn, getting in his face with the tip of his nose close to his. His breathing heavier than that of Shawn's, hoping it wasn't a bad sign.

"Answer me!"

"I did!"

"Tell me why you did it?!"

"No!"

"Shawn-"

"Make me! 'Make me like a loser' says like all the others!"

Razor got out of Shawn's face from his outburst. He collected himself by breathing more slowly. He stepped lightly, his feet no longer stamping the floor, his comb in hand as he bumped shoulders with Shawn.

"All right, then," He said, walking past his friend. "But don't expect me to help you with those attires."

Shawn's eyes narrowed to the floor, seeing the white tiles, wanting to be as cold as it was. He was already feeling what the tiles could be feeling, that is, if the tiles could talk. He had now come to his senses, realizing his outbursts were just enough to hurt his own being. He felt his heart jump in his chest from all that had just happened, trying to come back into a reality where he was friends with Razor while he knew Razor wasn't exactly in the business for friends.

He turned around slowly, just barely catching Razor's back turned to him, walking completely out the door, not just to the bathroom, but the entire locker room itself. The door slammed, vibrations followed.

His smile faded. All he wanted to do was ease his pain, and this is what he got. Another person to make a fool out of him. Another slap to the face as it were, but no stinging impact. Razor was his friend, and he gave his heart to Shawn the best he could, but Shawn was too upset to see so. He looked up and over to the mirror hanging above the counter. He walked over to it and placed his palms on the edge of the counter, easily feeling the stings from the impact. He could also feel stings on his heart, it feeling as though it could burst through his chest. He looked at himself, his long, dark hair limp and wet from crying. His face starting to get back to its original color, but it was still a little red, his eyes the worst. He had to stop crying. He just had to. He didn't want anyone to see him like this.

He looked all around his face. Was it the prettiest in the world? Was it the ugliest? Is that what Bret thought of him?

Surely, he wouldn't have thought of him as ugly. Shawn had never been called ugly in his time, but, then again, it wasn't called to his face. Behind his back? Most likely.

He wanted to collect himself, but staring at his reflection took him a good ten minutes before he was startled by a hard hand on his back. He turned, scared of the outcome of who it could have been.

He sighed in relief when he saw the man in front of him smiling back at him.

"Shawn," Diesel said, his grin wide. "What's wrong, buddy?"

Shawn looked at Diesel, his short beard sticking out like a sore, and quickly said, "Bret. Then...Razor. I did it again."

"It?"

Shawn nodded, his sadness creeping back upon him. Diesel sighed, then, gently, pulled Shawn's arm out towards his chest, seeing the damage on his lower wrist.

"Oh...Shawn...why do you subject yourself to this?"

"It's not like anyone can see them."

"I can."

"Well...that's different. I meant in the ring, where everyone's watching you and one little cut isn't going to matter."

"This does matter, Shawn. You did this for what? So you could be free?"

"No...yes...I guess so..."

Diesel sighed, his only feelings starting to make the conversation get out of hand. He decided to walk towards the bathroom door, and looked out into the room, seeing everything, from the wooden lockers to the matted floor.

He caught sight of something on the ground. "Shawn?"

Shawn went back to the mirror, smiling at himself, but stopped when he saw how ridiculous he looked. He knew he was ridiculous at doing that, so, why do it? He couldn't find the answer.

"Shawn?" Diesel called again.

Shawn looked at him. "Yeah?"

"Why are your attires all jumbled? Oh, wait, Bret had to do it because he did that to Razor and he literally had to stay up half the night loosening those attires of his."

Shawn gave a limp smile, Diesel's words were the only things that could make him smile. He felt okay around the two people he called his friends, but, then again, he was safer his way. His sense of not being able to be around anyone but himself.

"Diesel," Shawn said slowly. "Can you help me get those unjumbled? My match is in a possibility of being next or being an hour later."

Diesel smiled. "Sure."

Shawn walked out of the bathroom just as soon as Diesel started to look around the room, then he spotted some folded chairs and undid them, setting the two chairs up side by side next to the jumbled attires and sat down. Shawn eased into the other chair, his back still a little hurt, and picked up one of the attires, seeing the hooks knotted. Diesel picked up some more and tugged at it. His hand gripped on the chain like he was clutching a heavy weapon. Shawn managed to find the source of one of the knots and pulled it apart, easily able to get it undone from all the others. The attires slid to the floor but one was clutched in his hands.

He stood up, the attire flattened over his street clothes. He laughed. "Perfect! I'll wear this one!"

"The zebra one? Why not the heart and crossbones?"

"I'm not into that one. Besides, I've worn this one before, remember?"

"Yeah, yeah." Diesel went back to working with the attires, and he almost had the one he was working on undone completely until he heard the locker room door open, and Razor came into the room like a loud train.

"What's wrong with you?" Diesel asked.

"They just told me to tell you to get to your match, Diesel."

"Okay." Diesel rose up from his chair, Shawn looking at him, his eyes fixed on the jumbled attires.

"Shawn," Razor snapped, causing Shawn to look up. "Your match is in an hour."

"Thanks." Shawn whispered, lowering his head.

Diesel chuckled and stood up, stretching before managing to walk out the door. Shawn looked back up immediately.

"Wait, I thought-"

"Shawn, you better get ready." Razor said, his comb running through his hair.

Shawn nodded, collecting himself while standing up straight, and managed to get his attires away from his feet so he could walk past them and into the bathroom. He shut the door behind him and managed to get out of his street clothes and into his attire with ease, his wrestling boots giving him no problems as they used to. Shawn realized the title was sitting beside the counter and walked over to pick it up. He couldn't forget it...and neither could anyone else.

Later, Shawn was sitting in the locker room, the chair becoming nothing but a break from all of the pain he went through earlier. He tried to clear his head, but the sound of the evil chuckles and the image of Bret's evil grin were causing Shawn to clutch the title he was holding and breath deeply through his mouth.

"Excuse me?"

Shawn snapped out of his thoughts completely, opening his eyes sharply as he was covered in a shadow standing over him. He gulped when he couldn't tell who the person was, but he had to be a wrestler, the physique was that sharp as was the man's voice.

"Um...can you tell me where a guy named Diesel is? I was told to tell him about the new locker arrangements."

Shawn opened his mouth a little, but closed it immediately when Diesel himself came through the door, his face covered in sweat and blood curling down his face past his ear. He had a grin on his face as he walked towards the man and Shawn.

"I'm Diesel. What can I do for you?"

The man had what appeared to be black linen gloves on, along with his clothes being that of nothing but black and a small coat coming down to his knees. He had some sort of stick in his hand, but didn't seem to be using it. Was he hurt? Not unless he was injured in a match. He couldn't have been crippled. There was no way anyone could get in wrestling that easy. Even Shawn knew that.

Another man came from the hallway, his head poked into the room, but you could see the stripes on his shirt. "Shawn Michaels, you're match is up next."

Shawn looked at the referee and smiled, wincing as his back began to get a little sore from all the sitting and waiting. He didn't feel like talking to anyone, and, with nothing to say, he walked out of the room with the title over his shoulder.

He walked into the hallway and approached a corner, easily making it past the Million Dollar Man again without realizing the man had slapped him again, this time on his face. The sting was so bad, Shawn had to stop walking to clear himself. He managed to regain his strength just as he walked down another corner, seeing Davey Boy Smith and another wrestler talking, them eyeing Shawn as he walked past them. Shawn let out a sigh when he heard soft laughs from the two men behind him.

He finally made it to the curtain, a short man with glasses and a half head of hair standing at attention. He had a grin on his face that told Shawn he was ready for tonight's match. Shawn was happy to see this man, but felt bad when he saw how tired he looked.

"Look luck, Shawn," Jose Lothario said, his accent clouded with a tired yawn.

Shawn nodded, waiting to hear his music, ready to embrace the crowd. The crowd that he hoped was the best crowd yet.

"Oh, God," Shawn whispered, his eyes closed tight. "Help me through this if you can hear me."

Then, the beats of music came on. Shawn opened his eyes just as soon as the words to his theme song started to blast through the arena, and, with a tap on the shoulder by Jose, Shawn walked into the curtain into the unknown. Once he came out of the pitch black, he saw the spot lights come down on him, the fans in the arena going crazy, all but one section of the building for that matter. Shawn grinned, better than last time he came out to screaming fans.

He walked down the aisle as the announcer said he was, and, when he saw outstretched hands of girls and little children, he had to shake them. He had to do it. He wanted to. His entire being would do anything to get the love of his fans. He touched the people's hands, their screams wilder than ever, one girl not wanting to let go, but Shawn managed to let his hand slip free.

He walked up to the ring, Jose already in front of him with his hands at his sides, and immediately sprung up to the apron, where he wanted to just be happy for once. He tuned out the sounds of the crowd, the chants of fans and the disgust of others, and began to dance. He slid under the ropes and, once inside the ring, he twirled in a circle and managed to get some of the crowd roaring. He managed to slid off the sides of his attires and untie the title from his waist. His music stopped, and his mind now focused on the match, Jose walking outside the ring guarding every movement.

Then, another sound came. Another music tune. The crowd's reaction was full of disgust that it made Shawn feel a lot better about facing Bret once again. The Hart Foundation found themselves outside of the curtain, the flags they carried swaying a little in the breeze that possibly came from the only air conditioning in the arena. The walked side by side down the aisle, and, Bret's smirk wide as it could get, he signaled one of his teammates to get into the ring. Bret and the other teammate watched from a distance as the team member crashed into the ring with Shawn.

All went well in the match, but Bret's stalking of Shawn made Shawn uncomfortable the first few minutes of the match, but managed to ignore his stare and continue with the action. He had the upper hand at first, but didn't get weak up until his opponent hit him in the back and he was almost defeated had it not been for the crowd, their reactions so great when Shawn hit the sweet chin music he had to stay in the ring once he got the three count. Bret's grin disappeared and Shawn felt honored to be loved by the fans, even when some of them weren't even cheering him on, which was, once again, half of everybody.

Shawn walked down the hall again, the title once more on his shoulder, Jose giving him a wide grin.

"I'm proud of you, Shawn. The boy I have trained has finally made it to the top."

Shawn nodded, wanting to say something, but Bret was standing down the hall that he didn't want to talk at the moment. He and Jose walked past the three men and Shawn noticed that none of them did anything. Shawn smiled. Jose slapped Shawn on the back gently and walked in the opposite direction when a turn came up. Shawn saw the locker room down the hall, and, opening the door, went inside.

He managed to place the title on the floor, himself too exhausted to even think about staying up any longer. But, then again, they were to leave for the next town soon, and he had to be awake for that. He found his bag on the floor, his toothpaste, toothbrush, and hairbrush packed inside with his street clothes. He managed to look over...and saw the attires neatly unfolded in front of him, all lined in a row.

Just then, Diesel came out of the bathroom, his street clothes now on, and managed to see Shawn and what he was looking at.

"Wow." He said, a grin on his face.

"Thanks, Diesel, I knew you wouldn't forget."

"Um...Shawn...I didn't do anything. I was so busy with fixing myself up after talking to some guy that I didn't have time to fix them anymore."

Shawn looked over at the attires, their shapes in perfect order. He was seeing things right. It had to be someone's doing. Someone who probably knew Shawn better than himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Shawn kept his eyes closed as he laid back first onto the bed, the title slipping onto the floor beneath him. He had had the most tiring day from all of the training and excitement of the past week that he had to rest now. He quickly adjusted the blanket over his body as he turned onto his right side. He opened his eyes partly when he saw the reflection of the clock on his side of the bed, his side supporting his weight. He adjusted it so he wouldn't have to spend the whole night with its light hovering over him. He sighed deeply as he turned over onto his back again after reading the clock. 12:28 A.M.

The door clicked open and Razor popped in, his grin wide and stiff from all the day's workout training. He and Shawn had the best time coming over to the next town, and loved the people's reactions to the entire roster stepping out of the tour bus and vans. Shawn and Diesel had sat together, but Diesel decided to talk to Jerry Lawler and Shawn was left alone for the time being up until Razor showed up and decided to share the hotel room with him. Only two wrestlers were allowed per room.

"You asleep? Already?" Razor asked, his voice a little tired.

Shawn nodded his head. His eyes were closed tight to the point he didn't want to open them and look at the cold darkness of the room besides the lamp on the far dresser close to the window and the other bed beside Shawn's.

"What a workout today. I think I've gained some muscle strength."

Shawn smiled. "Me too."

"And did you see the way those girls were looking at us? Man, they were cute, weren't they?"

Shawn felt his eyes begin to flutter open for a second when he noticed how different Razor was now than when he was at the arena. Surely he had a good time, but he didn't seem as mad like he was at the show. The bruises were already beginning to heal from all the ice the doctor made him put on his face. Razor's grin was so wide he was smiling, which is what he would do some of the time. Maybe it was just a change in the weather.

"Shawn?"

"Yeah, Raz?"

Razor was now sitting on the bed opposite to Shawn's bed, his legs over the edge. "Did you or did you not think those girls were cute?"

"Yeah."

"Did you see the way I winked at them?"

"No."

Razor huffed, grabbing his nightshirt and slipping it on. "Well...I see you didn't pay much attention to them."

"I didn't want to."

"Well, okay."

Razor laid down on his bed as he flung the blanket over him, his smile turned into chuckles. Shawn closed his eyes again and turned over on his side, hearing the chuckles of his friend. They were deep and almost as serious as his attitude as of late. Shawn listened to them, but tried to block them out. He heard them, and thought he could hear other chuckles too. Laughs, as it were. The laughs of Bret and his friends. The whispers of the superstars Shawn had passed at the arena. The sound of the floor clashing with his back and the stinging effects of the slaps and burning pain applied by Bret himself.

He tried to get rid of them but, with Razor's chuckles now silent, he could still hear them. He shut his eyes tight.

* * *

**5:02 A.M.**

"No...No...No...Please...No..."

Shawn twisted in bed, not realizing his movements.

"Please...No...Dont...Stop..."

Razor heard something and opened his eyes, the noises that of moans and words combined. He turned over from laying on his side, and saw Shawn moving around in bed, his head the most, his body trembling uncontrollably, his hands gripping the sheets tight.

"Shawn?" He whispered.

The movements and the words were the same. The moans got louder. Razor pulled back the blanket and swung his legs over the bed, rubbing his eyes as he tried to make use of what was going on before him.

"Please...Stop..."

Razor got up slowly, his legs stretching itself, and quickly shook Shawn's shoulder, knocking him back into the pillow.

"Shawn, wake up!"

Shawn's moans became louder as his voice was becoming shriller and more serious than before.

"Please...Don't! Please!"

"Shawn, wake up! Your having dreams again!"

"Please! Please!"

"Shawn! Shawn! Wake up!"

Razor kept shaking Shawn from his shoulder and, within an instant, his eyes opened with a gasp of air. His breathing deep and increasing with every passing second. His hands left dents in the sheets as he let it go, his breath came down onto the pillow and bounced up into his mouth, creating heat.

"Calm down, Shawn."

Shawn put his head in his hands as he slowly started to recover his breath. He sighed when he felt it come back to him, the dream powerful as it was. Shawn looked up, his friend already back in the other bed, adjusting the blankets over him. Shawn frowned and looked at the clock, seeing how early it was, and decided to lay there for a good ten minutes thinking about the dream. He felt his eyes close slowly, not realizing it until he saw nothing but darkness.

* * *

The next thing Shawn knew, he was being tugged on from the blanket over him. He opened his eyes slowly and saw Diesel standing over him, his smile turning into a frown.

"Shawn, come on. We'll be late for the meeting."

"Oh, yeah..." Shawn started to sit up in bed as he tried to adjust to the sharp light in the room. He looked over, Razor's bed made up perfectly, him not in it. Shawn looked back at Diesel and nodded as he got out of bed, his streets clothes already on.

"You sleep in your clothes?"

"Sometimes you have to."

Diesel chuckled and walked out the door, leaving Shawn in the room by himself. Shawn quickly went into the bathroom and turned on the fosset, his hands touching the cold water as it slipped through his fingers and let it touch his face. He wiped off his face with a towel quickly before he grabbed his toothpaste and toothbrush and began to brush his teeth, spitting it out every five seconds, the taste was that bad.

"Shawn, hurry up!" Diesel yelled from the doorway.

Shawn quickly wiped his mouth off and flattened his hair down since he didn't have much time to brush it, it already being perfectly straight and tangles weren't a problem, and left the bathroom to pick up the title beside the bed. He smiled at it. He grabbed his key card to the room and put it into his pocket when he walked to the door, which was partly opened, and walked outside the hotel room. Diesel smiled and walked down the hall, Shawn following.

Taking the elevator three floors down, Diesel and Shawn found the entrance to a big room full of superstars talking and laughing. Shawn shuttered from all of the noise. He should have been used to it now, but he wasn't. He still had to remember to keep calm.

As the two entered the room, Razor, sitting in the third row, gave a sign for the two to come over, but Shawn noticed there was only one seat next to the other man. Diesel looked at Shawn when Shawn started to back away.

"What's wrong?"

"You...can...sit next to him. I'll find somewhere else."

"You sure?"

Shawn nodded, backing up more than he expected to. He gave a light smile when he turned his back on Diesel and began to search the room for any empty chairs. He heard Diesel's voice, but couldn't make out the words, he was too focused. He saw Jake Roberts sitting in the seventh row and decided to try to sit next to him. After all, he barely talked himself. He walked over to the man and, without a warning, he got up and held a brown bag in Shawn's face.

"You take one more step towards me and I'll release the snake on you!"

Shawn gulped, his feet stumbling backward and to a halt, almost tripping on his own feet. "I'm-I'm sorry."

He walked away, hearing the bag Jake was carrying fall into the empty chair next to him, a chuckle following. Shawn thought he had nowhere else to go, but he then saw Ric Flair on the far side of the fifth row and walked over to him, seeing no one else was around him.

As soon as Shawn approached, Ric flung a bag of make up and robes onto the empty chair next to him and began talking to Curt Hennings, his voice fast and low. Shawn tried to make use of what just happened and began to walk away... too fast he ended up crashing into a leather jacket entranced with pink attire, the smell of conditioner hitting Shawn's nostrils from the impact.

"Watch it, loser! Can't you see I'm walking here?"

"S-Sorry...Bret."

"I bet you are. Your mom must be so disappointed she gave birth to you."

Bret's evil grin became entranced on his face as Shawn gulped when Bret's friends started laughing.

"What a joke. H-B-K has lost his spunk." One friend said. The one Shawn happened to beat.

"Yeah...what a loser." The other said, his laughs getting louder.

Bret pushed his fingers onto the title, the force pushing Shawn back. "Go on now little Shawn...don't want to stand on the wall like last time. Remember guys? Wasn't that funny?"

Bret's friends laughed and nodded at the same time, taking their seats next to Mark Callaway, who shook his head. Bret laughed and sat down, his back to Shawn. Shawn sighed, adjusting the title on his shoulder, and walked over to the side of the room, away from Bret and his friends, trying to find any empty chairs around. It seemed hopeless. He just might had to stand up on the wall...again.

"Need a place to sit?"

Shawn looked around sharply, trying to make use of the voice. He looked to his left, and saw a man with blond hair and a thin face looking at him. Shawn looked down from the glance, but his eyes shifted upward when the mysterious man signaled him to come over. Shawn looked behind him. He couldn't have been signaling him. Impossible. No one has ever done that before at these types of meetings. He turned back around, the other man still staring at him.

"Yes, you. I don't think it would be fair for you to stand while we sit."

Shawn faintly smiled and walked a little towards the other chair the man was sitting beside, his hair pulled back as his eyes narrowed to the floor, as the other man turned back around. Shawn adjusted the title on his shoulder and began to slowly sit down into the empty chair. He locked eyes with the floor, the title slipping into his hands.

"I thought that was you."

Shawn looked up a little, his long hair covering his eyes a second, seeing the other man behind it.

"You're the guy I bumped into the other day. I'm so sorry. I didn't see where I was going and I just happened to knock you down. I hope I didn't scare you or anything."

"Um...no."

"Hmm?"

"No." Shawn said a little louder.

"So...you can talk."

"Yeah," Shawn said, his eyes lowered. "What did you think I was? Stupid?"

"No, your not stupid. You look like a cool guy to hang around."

Shawn snickered. He tried to cover his mouth, but couldn't let go of the title long enough to do so.

"What?" The man asked.

Shawn caught himself. "Nothing."

The noises in the room stopped immediately as soon as a door opened in the corner, a man in a grey suit and red tie coming up the steps and to a podium with a big microphone on top of it. The man straightened his tie before he put the papers he was holding onto the podium and quickly cleared his throat, his black hair glistening from the sunlight peeking into the room from the back window.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. Now, as you all may know, we have had the best time this week getting to know the fans here in Mississippi. Taking pictures and autographs and such. But now, here's something you may not be aware of: ratings are low."

Some superstars murmured to each other as they remained seated, turning their heads this way and that, while Shawn kept his eyes on the floor, but glanced up at Vince Mcmahon when he cleared his throat again, his voice deep and serious.

"And thus we must now make a choice. Should we continue story lines or should we make new ones."

"New one's seem good to me." Bret sneered, his grin following.

"This isn't the time to be interrupting me, Mr. Hart."

"I'm sorry, sir. I was just voicing my opinion because my story line is of no use to me. I don't care about this story arc about me getting involved in a championship match and then lose it."

"Well, Bret, many of our viewers are entranced by the ark. In fact, it was the best match at Wrestlemania. So I suggest you get used to it. Speaking of titles, Shawn Michaels is the new champion."

Shawn lowered his head when some of the superstars turned to look at him, along with the other guy next to him. Vince's voice brought everyone back to attention.

"Now, let's also welcome our newcomer, Mr. Hunter Helmsley."

Some superstars clapped while most of them didn't respond. Vince grunted when he once again tried to clear his throat, then spoke again, "Tomorrow night's program better be good. I don't want to waste any time worrying about the ratings. Get up bright and early tomorrow morning and to the arena. That is all."

Vince stepped down as the superstars all stood and filed out of the room, Shawn staying where he is, hoping to get out last so when the superstars are all in the hotel rooms, he wont have to face them. He was caught off guard when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Better bring our best to the ring tomorrow. I know I'll try, but my gimmick is getting old by the second."

Shawn smiled. Hunter was easily making the conversation work.

"Does yours feel that way?"

Shawn thought for a second. "No. I like being myself."

Just then, Diesel and Razor's shadows covered the two men sitting down. Shawn clutched the title and sat up, smiling at the two as he caught Hunter standing up in the corner of his eye.

"Come on, Shawn, we better get back to the training room today." Razor said, a grin on his face.

Shawn smiled faintly when he saw the strange man walk away from the three men and out the door.

"He's wierd." Razor said, laughing.

"No, he's not. He's a nice guy." Shawn said, catching himself on his words.

"How would you know? Do you talk to him?"

Shawn stared at Razor. "We barely talked...but he seems nice."

"Yeah, Raz, I was talking to him the other day and he said he's been assigned to our locker room." Diesel said.

"Our locker room...well, okay." Razor said, his voice full of irony, as he walked away from the two men.

Once they saw Razor leave, Shawn and Diesel managed to get back to each other's hotel room and grab their attires. Diesel decided to go into Shawn and Razor's hotel room since it was closer to the training room downstairs. Once inside the room, Shawn and Diesel changed into their wrestling attires separately, knowing each other would want some privacy, and soon sat down on the two beds in the room. They were both silent for a few seconds when Diesel decided to talk.

"Shawn," He said. "Can I ask you something?"

Shawn looked up from slipping his wrestling boots on. "Yeah?"

"Why did you hurt yourself the other day? Of the other times before that?"

Shawn straightened his back and looked at Diesel, his face blank and still eager for answers. He shrugged, a grin following. Diesel sighed, and gave up talking. It was hopeless for him to get any answers out of Shawn, especially like he was now. Shawn's grin faded when he realized how stupid he must of looked. Sitting here alone and silent. How he wanted it to be.

Diesel decided it was best to talk again. "I...I heard what Bret said to you today. Did that upset you?"

Shawn looked down, not wanting to think about it. He didn't want to talk, so why should he answer his friend's questions?

"Shawn?"

Shawn sighed. "What?"

"Did Bret upset you today?"

"Why do you care?" Shawn kept his eyes on the floor.

"I'm just trying to figure out a way to beat him up is all."

Shawn grinned. "You wouldn't do that to the Hitman, would you? I mean, he's a big freak like me, so were both even, right?"

"No, Shawn, you two are not even. Your crazy to think that."

"Did you here him today? He said to Vince he hated our storyline."

"Yeah, and Vince told him to get over it. You know he's not going to take that lightly."

"Well...let's get going. We have to find Razor."

Shawn immediately sprung from the bed, his attire gleaming in the sunlight with the red chains hanging from it turning this way and that with his quick movements.

Diesel got up and noticed Shawn's attire. He laughed. "The red heart one? Really?"

"It's my best one. I wear it a lot at the shows."

"I know. I should probably get a matching pair if we ever team up like we used to."

Shawn frowned, remembering those days. "Sure. Whatever you say."

* * *

Hours of training certainly paid off when Shawn was able to hold his own against Razor in the ring as he and his friend were locked in a grappling hold, ready to grab one another so they could get pushed down onto the mat and, just as predicted, Shawn managed to get Razor down and Razor came back up with a blow to the head. Shawn regained his balance long enough to see Razor charging towards him, then, quickly, he dropped the ropes down as Razor flew past them and onto the floor, hitting the outside mats that were hard as boards. Razor groaned as Shawn managed to regain his footing, his arms dangling as he clutched the ropes above him, and flew over the ropes with ease, his feet back onto the mat in the center of the ring.

Razor got up on his feet. "I think you win today."

Shawn smiled, grabbing a towel on the corner of the ring post, wiping his face and chest off. "Thanks."

Razor walked towards the doorway just as Diesel finished up his weight lifting. He sat up on the bench as he looked over at the other man.

"What's wrong, Raz?"

Razor stopped in his tracks, turning around. "Oh, uh, I got some things to do. Practice is over. See you guys soon."

Diesel kept silent as he put the weights back in the bins beside the machine. Shawn gestured a goodbye with his hand, he was out of breath to talk. The two men looked at each other for a second before Diesel walked up the ramp and made his exit through the door. Shawn stood in the ring, by himself, waiting for a moment to get his strength back so he could walk towards the hotel room to rest.

After a couple of minutes passed after all the training, Shawn grabbed the sides of his attire he slipped off and quickly slipped them back on, along with clutching the title and throwing it over his shoulder. He smiled to himself when he realized how strong he was getting from all of the workouts he, Razor, and Diesel were doing in an attempt to make a better impression on the audience each week.

He slipped out of the ring and quickly shut off the lights to the room before finally exiting the door. He managed to find the stairway leading to the lobby of the hotel. When he got in the lobby, he looked around to see if anyone was in the room, but no one but a man in the corner of the room talking to Ric Flair was present. Ric used a hand gesture towards the other man, signaling someone else was in the room, and the other man turned around by the time Shawn had begun to walk towards the elevator.

"Shawn!" The man called.

Shawn stopped in his tracks and looked behind him. The last person he thought he would never see was there.

"Yes, Owen?"

"Razor said to me to tell you that he forgot to tell you to meet him in the boiler room downstairs next to the training room. He said it was important."

Shawn was confused. "Are you sure he said that?"

"I'm sure. He said he wanted to meet you right now."

Shawn shrugged and quickly went back the way he came, going back down the stairs after looking at the man behind the counter stocking food on the shelves. The darkness of the hallway gave Shawn a bad feeling, but, then again, he wasn't afraid of the dark. He had everything under control. He clutched the title as he saw a faint light in the distance, able to recognize a figure on the other side that was in the form of a shadow. He stepped lightly down the remains of the hallway, eyeing the light and the way the other figure disappeared into the room ahead of him.

"Raz?" Shawn called.

Listening for any response, Shawn carefully saw the stairway in front of him, and, his hand on the rail, he quickly descended down the stairs until he saw the light of the room, which consisted of nothing but large oval tanks on the sides while the middle of the room was wide enough for anyone to go through. Shawn gulped. He had never been down here before.

"Raz? Are you here?" Shawn called. Nothing in reply.

Then, before Shawn knew it, he felt the cold ground, and the impact was so heavy he had to collect his breath, feeling as if something was grabbing him across the chest. Indeed, someone was grabbing him. Choking him. It was hard to catch his breath when he felt the tight hands around his neck get harder and harder to break, and his breath was beginning to weaken.

"That's enough!"

Shawn collapsed onto the ground, his head hitting the steel of the title, catching his breath. The mysterious being disappeared, footsteps echoing in Shawn's ears as he coughed a couple of times after managing to get his breath back.

A light came on, the room engulfed by it. Shawn turned over onto his back, looking up at the ceiling, trying to look around at the same time. He managed to look in front of him, and saw Bret standing in the doorway.

"B-Bret? What's going on?" Shawn asked.

"Save me your pity, Michaels. I just want to have some fun."

Shawn managed to grab onto one of the boilers and use it for support as he grunted, standing on his feet completely He caught his breath again when he saw Bret's grin that was entranced on his face, along with the sounds of footsteps coming up behind him. Shawn turned, the friends of Bret laughing slightly behind him. Shawn saw the title on the ground at his feet, wanting to pick it up. He lowered his eyes towards it, thinking about it.

"You touch that title, you'll regret it." Bret sneered, his body now closer to Shawn's, his footsteps echoing in the room.

"Where's Razor?" Shawn asked, causing everyone around him to laugh a little.

"Oh, little Shawn...Razor's not here right now. May I take a message?"

Bret's friends began snickering. Shawn turned and looked at them, then looked back at Bret.

"He's not in here, is he?"

Bret grinned. Evil on his face. "No, Shawn. But...we're here."

Shawn heard the footsteps behind him getting closer. Getting tougher, as it were. Shawn looked back at them, but couldn't keep his eyes off of Bret, realizing the horrible truth. Bret's friends snickered as Shawn kept his eyes on them.

"You cowards don't have anything better to do? I mean, your only losers." Shawn said, looking at everyone.

Bret's head tilted back in disgust. Then, the evil grin appeared. "Get him, boys!"

Shawn felt his forearm gripped, then, he was spinning around towards Bret's friend's, where one of them punched him in the stomach, then another hit him in the face and chest and back. The third one tackled Shawn and managed to hit him against one of the boilers before finally letting Shawn slip to the floor. Bret walked over and dragged Shawn by the arm towards the middle of the room, Shawn coughing from the heavy blows.

Shawn opened his eyes a little, only to shut them tight as he felt the stinging impact of a boot in his face, hitting him roughly, followed by blows and hits to the stomach, back, head, chest, arms, and legs. Shawn felt the hits and blows and grunted each time, trying to get away, run away from the attackers. It was hopeless.

The hits kept coming, and Shawn began to feel his body getting sore. His head the worst. He felt the stinging affects, and wanted to move, but couldn't. It was as if he was stuck to the floor, allowing these people to hurt him.

"Enough! Enough!"

Shawn heard Bret's voice over the yells and screams off the others, including his own. Then, it all stopped. The echos of footsteps in his ears. Shawn laid there for a second collecting his breath until he felt his forearm clasped by a hand, standing him up roughly, himself dizzy from all that had happened.

"Can you stand on your own, Boytoy?"

Shawn winced as Bret's fingers pressed into his skin, gripping him roughly. He could feel something crawling down his mouth, lips, and nose.

"Y-Y-Yes."

"Good. Now...apologize for what you said."

Shawn winced again, the pain stinging his already sore body. "What...are...you...talking about?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! You called us losers!"

Bret was now screaming in Shawn's ear. Shawn bounced back, trying to get away from the pain and hurt, but nothing would stop the stinging sensation in his forearm mixing with the sore bones in his body.

"No..." Shawn said slowly.

His forearm was gripped tighter, causing him to yell in pain.

"Say it! Say it or I'll hurt you again! And if I have to, It'll be something you'll never forget!"

Shawn winced as the pain increased all over his body. "I'm-I'm sorry I...called...you...losers."

Then, Shawn felt the stings subside, Bret's hand now at his side. Shawn's eyes were clouded with a red substance that he had to rub it out of his eyes, but only for a second the pain was that bad. Shawn stood there in the room, not knowing, or remembering, which way to get out of the room. He managed to feel something get thrown at his feet. He looked down a second, his blue eyes a little blurred, and was able to make out the shape of the title.

"Pick it up." Bret's voice called.

Shawn stood there, his body sore. He didn't want to do it.

"Pick it up."

Shawn sighed deeply and leaned down slowly, the pain increasing with every moment, and quickly picked up the title he won against Bret.

"Good boy. Now...before we go...we just want to make sure you get to the hotel room okay."

Shawn noticed how Bret's voice trailed off, but soon he noticed a liquid substance running down his chest and arms and back and legs. He felt his hair sticking to his face, then, he felt the ice cold water as it poured down his body completely, the friends of Bret cutting in front of him and joining Bret in the laughter. Shawn stood there, shocked, cold, and helpless. He couldn't move, or it would hurt to. But he raised his arms to ease of the tingling feeling of the ice cold water to warm his body. His whole being started to tremble and shake uncontrollably.

He was doing that as soon as he found another light before him. Above him as it was. He saw the way the ceiling looked and the pattern was the same as that of his hotel room. He felt something on his chest, lightly touching his face as he tried to reach out and grab it to pull it closer, but his arm was shaking so bad he couldn't bring himself to do it. He started to moan, his whole body aching and sore, trembling and shaking so bad he was being touched at the face by a hand.

"Don't worry, Shawn. I'm here for you."

Shawn's eyes barely caught sight of the person talking, but could have sworn that the voice was familiar. But, at the same time, the voice wasn't any voice he had heard before. A voice he knew, yet he couldn't get the name right.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Shawn's eyes felt as if they were stuck. He didn't want to open them, he felt so tired and sore. He tried to shift positions on the bed he knew he was in, but, when he tried, his ribs and chest began to burn, along with his legs aching and arms felt crushed under pressure. Shawn managed to feel the blanket over him as he breathed deeply, trying to open his eyes, but it remained impossible. He wanted to sleep. It would have seemed like the best thing to do.

The blanket gave Shawn something he wanted: warmth. Shawn could feel the heat off of the blanket as well as his body heat from the position he held on the bed for so long, being on his side. Shawn smiled, the heat a pleasure to him than what was of the night before.

Shawn fluttered his eyes open when he heard noises coming from behind him. He managed to see, through his blurred vision, a man standing before him, putting clothes or something of the kind into a bag on a stool. The man's hair was pulled back as his physique was the strongest Shawn had seen. Maybe the best. Shawn groaned and tried to sit up, but moaned when his body began to ache and burn some more.

The man stopped what he was doing and looked up sharply. He began to straighten up and smiled. "Hey, you okay?"

Shawn groaned, the pain increasing. "Y-Yeah...I think."

The man walked over to the bed and sat at the edge, shifting the blankets to where Shawn could feel it press onto his skin smoothly, just like last night. It gave Shawn more time to lay back onto the bed.

"You, uh, passed out last night." The Man said.

Shawn looked at him through the gap in the blanket. He groaned when the pain continued to take effect. The Man cleared his throat.

"You didn't respond to me when I was checking on you before that. You were shaking so bad I had to get you here fast. You could have died."

Shawn listened carefully, taking in every word, realizing the attacks weren't just a bad dream he had. It was real. He sighed when he thought about the beatings, the embarrassment that he felt when they poured the water on him. He felt helpless, just like he was now. He wanted to go to sleep, not thinking about it. He smiled faintly when the Man put a hand on his shoulder, aching a little at the touch.

"I'm just glad you're okay. I saved your life."

Shawn's blue eyes shifted to see the man. "T-Thanks...um..."

"Hunter."

"Hunter, right. Oh, um, I'm happy you saved my life...but not happy at the pain right now."

"I know the feeling. When you're feeling death crawl at you. It's hard to comprehend but we have to accept it one way or the other."

"But...I'm okay now."

Hunter looked at the ground. "I could have left you in that boiler room but I couldn't. I saw how...helpless you were. Shaking like that. You...you looked like you were about dead."

Shawn winced when he felt his head start to pound like his heart. He wanted to grasp it, but his arm was so sore he thought twice about it. Hunter looked up at Shawn and smiled, a small smile formed on Shawn's lips, quickly noticing all the bandages on the counter, half covered in blood.

"What time is it, anyway?" Shawn asked, seeing the title was on the side of the bed next to him.

Hunter checked his watch. "Oh, um, about 6:30. We don't get to the arena until 11:00."

Shawn frowned. He wondered what Diesel and Razor were up to. Wondering if they even knew he was gone or not. Or even if they cared. He decided to try to sit up, but, as he attempted, he felt the stinging impacts as well as a hand on his chest.

"No, I wouldn't allow your body to move around after all you've been through. I'd rest up."

Shawn sank back down onto the bed, his side almost feeling numb from his attempts at moving any deeper into the warmth of the blankets or the bed itself. Hunter let his hand fall off of Shawn's chest and brought it back to his side, rubbing the back of his neck as he saw Shawn lying there almost lifeless as his body could have felt.

Hunter stood up and decided to go check on Shawn's wet clothes in the dryer downstairs. Before he walked to the door he grabbed his key card from the counter and turned towards Shawn, his eyes closed as he was motionless on the bed except for his stomach muscles moving in and out.

"I'll be right back. You just rest up, and I'll see if there's any medicine for that headache of yours."

As Hunter opened the door and exited the room, hearing the click as the door closed, Shawn groaned as the pain in his head was starting to match his body. He felt his mouth become dry, and managed to lick his lips. He happened to taste something bitter while doing so. Shawn groaned, remembering Hunter's words.

"How did you know I even had a headache?"

* * *

Hunter walked down the hallway and into the elevator, where he managed to get to the lobby and walk down the same stairs that he happened to walk down the previous night, hearing the groans and yells of a man that sounded hoarse from all of his attempts to get help. Hunter tried to get the image out of his head that of Shawn's body shaking while he was rocking back and forth on his knees, his face engulfed in tears and water that was all over the floor, his body shaking from the effects of the water. His arms trying to cover his shoulders and chest, but couldn't get them up in position to do it. He grabbed Shawn and carried him up to his room, placed him in the bed, and put blankets over him so he wouldn't die from all of the cold feelings. He had managed to get back downstairs, realizing he had left the title, and picked the title up, careful not to slip in the process from all of the water. He didn't have to do it, but, for some reason, he just wanted to. He wanted to help Shawn, even if they didn't talk only but once. He couldn't figure out why yet.

As he approached the doors of the laundry room, he kept the images alive so he could see that it was real. That it was crazy enough that someone would go down into the cold boiler room in the middle of the night and then shiver half to death by someone or something dumping water on him. He could see the barrel right beside Shawn as he was trying to calm him down, his nose and mouth bleeding pretty bad. He couldn't have done it himself. That barrel looked heavy compared to Shawn's muscles.

He opened the door to the drier and managed to pull out the attire that Shawn had been wearing and clutched it in his bare hands, careful not to touch the chains as they were a little hot. He began to walk towards the doorway, passing all of the other washers and driers in the room, until two big men in attires of black and bronze, with long hair and another with short hair, came into the room like cars coming down a freeway.

"I'm telling the truth, Raz! Shawn's attire was in this dryer!" Diesel said as he opened the door to the drier and looked in.

"Um...nothing's in there. Look, Shawn wouldn't disappear on us without a good reason." Razor said, his grin wide, chuckles following.

"This isn't funny, Razor, this is serious! Shawn is somewhere in this hotel and we don't know where because he's been missing since last night!"

"I know it's not funny, but why would Shawn just disappear like that? It's not like we're his enemy or something like that."

"Well, all I know is that I came down here to wash my clothes and happened to find Shawn's attire and that's when I-"

Hunter stepped between the two big men, hearing the conversation loud and clear. "I found Shawn in the boiler room last night and he was shivering and shaking to death. I took him to my room if you want to see him."

Razor eyed Hunter up and down, looking at his clothing and even his face, trying to make use of what he just said. Diesel sighed, almost in relief, running his hands through his black hair.

"Thanks for telling us," Diesel said, managing to get his own clothes out of another drier. He turned back around and looked at Hunter. "Hey, you're that new guy that just moved into our locker room, aren't you?"

"Yes, and we don't have much time to stand around. I've got to go find some medicine for Shawn's headache. He's really sore, too. I don't think he can move."

Razor saw the attire Hunter was holding and huffed. "Well...you certainly do care for other superstars, don't you?"

"I do. I care for people who need help, and Shawn needed help last night."

"Alright, let's go see Shawn. I want to know why he was shaking last night." Diesel said, his voice loud and booming, causing echos. His clothes were stacked into his big hands.

"Someone dumped cold water on him. I saw a barrel next to him when I found him." Hunter said, walking towards the door with the other two men, Razor with his arms locked across his chest.

"By the way, what's your name again?" Diesel asked as he made it to the middle of the staircase.

"Hunter. Yours?"

"I'm Diesel. That's Razor."

As the three men walked back up the stairs and into the lobby, they quickly managed to get some medicine for any symptom possible and quickly made way towards the elevator. Hunter was the one who did all of the work while Diesel helped a little while Razor didn't help at all. Razor looked like he was off in another world. Once the doors of the elevator opened, Bret and his friends stepped outside, grinning and laughing.

"Well, well. Big Daddy Cool and his wonder pets have arrived." Bret sneered, seeing the three men.

"Save the comments, Hitman, we don't have time today." Razor said, making a fist towards his chest.

Bret snickered, long with his friends. "That's too bad. I was hoping to catch Shawn around with you guys, but it seems you've found a replacement. Poor little Shawn's going to be upset."

"I'm no replacement. Just someone smart enough to know about Hypothermia is all."

Bret lifted his eyebrows, turning back to his friends with his evil grin. His friends grinned just as Bret turned back around to face the three men before him. The doors of the elevator shut behind the groups.

"Oh...well...you must be pretty smart for a newcomer. Tell me, are you a loser just like Shawn?"

"The only loser around here is you, Bret," Diesel said, stepping forward to meet Bret's gaze. "Now back off."

"Yeah." Razor agreed, stepping forward as well.

Bret's eyes remained in a staggering position, not taking them off of the three men in front of him nor shifting them in a different direction. He uncrossed his arms from his chest and rubbed his hands together, balling them into fists. Bret's friends copied him, only they balled their hands before Bret, stepping forward towards Bret, shoulder to shoulder.

"Why don't you all back up and get on with your lives? As a matter of fact, I heard there was this awesome new freeway open down the block. Maybe you should hit that road with your scared little emotions running wild." Hunter said, his smile overcoming the mood between everyone.

Bret clenched his jaw. "The only emotions running wild our yours. Didn't someone ever tell you to lose that dirty hair?"

"No, I don't recall anyone saying that, but I do recall how badly shaped your hair looked yesterday at the meeting. It looked like you woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, loving to take control of other superstars. It pleases you, doesn't it? Because you realize you're the real loser."

Bret's friends shifted their positions to where they stumbled back and almost knocked into Road Warrior Hawk and Animal coming out of the elevator, eyeing the conversation but showing no interest as they walked outside.

Bret looked Hunter in the eyes. "I'm no coward. I'm the best there is," He looked at Razor. "The best there was," He looked at Diesel. "And the best there ever will be. That's my new Slogan."

"Well, good luck with that." Hunter said as Bret bumped shoulders with him, walking away, his friend's following, to get outside.

"We'll see about that!" Diesel called, remembering Bret's words.

Razor chuckled, looking at Hunter. "Well...you're not so bad after all."

"Just showing him who's boss. He's not the boss of everyone around here." Hunter said, pressing the button for the elevator to open.

After a few minutes in the elevator, Hunter, Diesel, and Razor didn't talk much, but began to think about all that Bret had said. It made Hunter sick to think that anyone would want to hurt other people with words. But that's what Hunter had gotten out of Bret. He was nothing but a scared coward.

Hunter managed to get his key card out and quickly open the door, the two big men behind them, their boots striking the floor, and walked inside, placing the attire on the side of the bed then looked towards the front.

"Where's Shawn? You said he was here." Diesel asked, his voice enraged.

Hunter thought he could have sworn Shawn was lying there when he left. He sighed and quickly walked towards the bathroom, seeing that the door was closed. Razor and Diesel shifted positions when they saw Hunter do this.

Hunter tried the door, his hand on the knob. He twisted it. It wouldn't budge.

"Shawn, you in here?"

Hunter tried to listen closely, but the sound of boots in his ear covered his senses. He jumped back when Razor's hand came crashing down on the door hard.

"Shawn!" Razor called. "Open this door!"

Not one sound was heard. Hunter sighed and Diesel managed to get close to the other two men and decided to try the door knob again, but not one budge. It was locked.

"Shawn! Come on out!"

Razor spoke up. "Forget this."

Razor stepped back about three to six steps, able to apply his back to the wall. Then, he charged forward and put his foot clean through the door, breaking down the door completely. The hinges hung limp as they dangled towards the floor, which was covered in wood.

"You're crazy, Raz!" Diesel yelled, looking back towards the front door, hoping no one else heard.

"It was the only way." Razor sneered as he looked forward, seeing nothing around the doorway.

Hunter looked towards the sink in the far back. He saw Shawn hunched over it, his legs about limp and his hands touching the fosset handles. He was shaking some, almost losing his balance completely as he tried to shift himself along the sink.

"Shawn!" Diesel called, walking past him.

He made it to the sink just in time to see Shawn collapse. He caught him and held him in his large arms.

"What happened, Shawn? Better yet, how did you get in here?" Hunter asked, walking over the debris of wood.

Shawn winced as he breathed into Diesel's shirt. "I...I..."

He then coughed. Diesel jumped back a second, the impact was strong, but quickly felt something run down his arm. He looked and saw blood piercing his wrist.

"Oh, no. He's worse than I thought." Hunter said, his breathing almost shallow.

"I'm...sorry...Diesel." Shawn whispered, his voice hoarse.

"It's okay, Shawn. You're going to be okay."

Shawn coughed again. Blood circled around his lips and chin.

Razor ran towards Shawn and Diesel, almost knocking Hunter down, and picked up Shawn's other arm as Diesel held his right arm over the back of his neck.

"Come on, Shawn, let's get you out of here."

"I'm...okay. Really."

"No you're not, Shawn," Hunter said as he walked towards the room. "You need an ambulance."

"Can you move?" Razor asked.

Shawn didn't respond. He groaned instead. His head hung limp as the two men rushed to get him out of the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Hunter, Diesel, and Razor sat alone in the room as they attempted to think of others things besides Shawn. But the sounds of the hospital speakers were driving them crazy. Already they had called an ambulance to get Shawn to the hospital, him coughing up blood on the way towards the bedroom, how much little effort Shawn used to do so, and was now sitting here with nothing to do but worry. Hunter cleared his throat when he kept looking towards the end of the hall, where the medics took Shawn to the emergency room. He felt shakes coming from the side of his chair. When he looked to see what was causing them, he was quickly tapped on the shoulder.

Hunter spun his head around, looking at the Doctor before him. He stood up. "Is Shawn okay?"

"Well," The Doctor began, his voice tired. "We managed to stop him from coughing up anymore blood. Problem is, he has lost a lot of blood from this experience."

Diesel's head popped up and he immediately walked towards the Doctor, his feet stomping the cold tiles on the ground.

"Just answer the question! Is Shawn okay or not?! We're talking about my best friend here!"

The Doctor stepped back from all of the force in Diesel's voice. "Yes, Mr. Michaels is okay, but we need to keep him for a couple of days just to make sure his blood flow works correctly."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Razor asked, remained seated in one of the lobby chairs, looking at the trio before him.

"Mr. Michaels has suffered internal bleeding on his insides leading towards his heart. He's very lucky that he survived this or he would have, I hate to say this, but, he could have died if not careful."

"If not careful? He has shaking when I saw him in the boiler room last night." Hunter said, his eyes serious.

"Yes, and we also found some form of hypothermia, but, luckily, it wasn't too bad."

"It was bad. It had to be. He was shaking uncontrollably. He wouldn't have just done that on his own."

"Well, we do plan to run some more tests to see if the results have changed. All Mr. Michaels needs now is rest and water. He can't eat for a couple of hours."

"I don't believe this." Diesel muttered, his head hung towards the floor.

Razor snickered, his head touching the wall. "You know he's a professional wrestler, right? We all are. We have to travel around and tonight was supposed to be a big night for us."

The Doctor shook his head. "I understand that. But I'm afraid your friend isn't going anywhere for a few days."

Hunter looked at the ground, taking in every word. He looked up. "May we see him?"

"For a few hours," The Doctor said, writing something down on his clipboard. He reached towards the side and grabbed and held out a card. "He's in room 202 down the hall."

Hunter extended his hand, but Diesel snatched the card out of the Doctor's hand and walked fast down the hall, his feet echoing in the large hospital. Hunter followed him, trying hard to keep up, but it seemed like a race to Diesel. Razor was far behind the two, stretching his arms above his head as he managed to get out of the chair. He grunted when he began walking towards the room, trying to catch up with the other two men.

* * *

Diesel found the room number without trouble and immediately opened the door. He walked over towards the bed where Shawn was laying, now dressed in a white gown. Hunter and Razor walked silently into the room, and Razor managed to get the door closed before Diesel could say anything.

Diesel looked at Shawn as he laid there unconscious. "I can't believe this. Bret's gonna get what's coming to him."

"I can't believe you think it even was Bret." Razor said, his arms across his chest.

Diesel looked up sharply. "It was Bret! I can tell! I mean, look at the bruises on Shawn's arms and chest. They didn't get there by accident."

Hunter nodded. "I agree. Whoever Bret thinks he is, this just isn't right. He must have been the one who dumped the water on him, too."

"No. It had to be his friends. Bret doesn't do his dirty work by himself." Diesel said, looking at his unconscious friend in the hospital bed.

Razor laughed. "This is ridiculous."

"What?" Diesel asked, offensive.

"It's obvious that this guy right here," Razor pointed at Hunter. "Is trying to get somewhere in this company by getting involved in something that isn't any of his business."

Hunter looked at Razor, his eyes wide. "Oh, yeah? Well, it is my business now. And let me tell you something, this little attitude of yours is really starting to get on my nerves. You start saying I'm not such a bad guy, then you twist it around and claim that now I'm the bad guy."

"Look, I've got my reasons to believe whatever I want to." Razor said, his grin wide.

"Raz," Diesel said, stepping up to him and Hunter. "Since you think this is a game, go talk to Vince back at the hotel and tell him I'm going to talk to him later. But first, tell him about Shawn. Please just do that for me."

Razor's arms uncrossed as he walked a little towards Shawn's bed, then turned around towards the doorway, walking to it. "Fine. I'll tell him everything he want's to know."

Hunter looked back at Shawn, hearing the door slam behind him, and sighed. Diesel hung his head as his breathing increased, managing to walk over to the corner of the room and sit in one of the chairs. Hunter grabbed another chair and sat down in it, seeing Shawn's body and face lightened with bruises and scars. His hair a mess. Diesel looked at the ground, sighing as he saw his friend like that just like Hunter.

"I'm sorry, Shawn," Diesel said. "Maybe if I hadn't stopped being your tag team partner, none of this would have happened."

Hunter looked over at the other man. "What do you mean?"

Diesel kept his stare at the ground. "Nothing. I'm just rambling."

* * *

An hour passed, and Shawn's condition remained the same. He didn't move at all, and his breathing was shallow compared to what he had been back at the hotel. Hunter had managed to get some water and hold Shawn's limp head to drink some of it before finally letting him rest. Diesel had to go into the lobby to call Razor and see if he had done like he asked, and Razor had answered with a possible no.

Diesel sighed as he walked back into the room, Hunter now resting up against the wall, his eyes shut from the day's stress.

"Knowing Razor he'll forget anything you tell him. He just thinks about himself." Diesel said, shaking his head, his black hair in his face.

Hunter opened his eyes a little and managed to see Diesel slip out the door again. He opened them completely and quickly brought his attention back to Shawn, whose movements were slim to none. He had nothing else more to do except look after this guy. He felt sorry for him. He wanted to know why those people did what they did to him.

As if in answer, Shawn suddenly moved a little in his unconscious state. His head moving as his arms started to shake. Hunter tensed up when he saw how Shawn's hands were gripping the sheets below him, and how his moans were turning into screams. Hunter reached over and placed his hand on Shawn's forehead, gently pushing down to try to sooth the dream Shawn was having. Shawn's groans weakened as Hunter's hand kept it's position, hoping to find some light to the dark day that had come between them.

Shawn's eyes fluttered open, and, through his blurred vision, he could see Hunter before him, his hand above him. Hunter smiled and brought his hand back to his side.

"You're gonna be okay, Shawn. I know you will." Hunter whispered.

Shawn limply smiled. "Thanks...for...everything."

"No problem. I'm not the only one worried about you. Diesel and Razor are worried too. Well, maybe not Razor as much, but, I'm sure he still cares."

Shawn looked up at the ceiling. "What...am I...doing here?

"You passed out when you somehow got out of bed. You were coughing up blood."

"Oh, yeah," Shawn said, his voice trailing. "I just wanted some water."

Hunter looked at the glass of water near him and grabbed it. "Do you need some now?"

Shawn managed to look over. "Y-Yes."

Hunter gently put his hand under Shawn's head and pushed up his body. Shawn winced from the pain burning and aching all over, and Hunter stopped to let Shawn get a hold of himself before finally pushing him up again, the water flowing into Shawn's mouth by sips.

Just as Hunter finished up, the door opened with a force, leaving a dent in the wall as it was pulled back into place by Diesel, who was breathing heavily, slamming the door behind him.

Shawn looked over, his head still in Hunter's hand. "What's wrong?"

Diesel looked over at Shawn, his voice hoarse but still clear, and said, "Well, I just talked to Vince about all that had happened."

"What did he say?" Hunter asked, knowing Shawn wouldn't know about it.

Shawn collapsed back onto the bed just as Diesel said, "He doesn't believe me."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Ow. Ow."

Shawn groaned and mumbled under his breath as he managed to sit up in the hospital bed, easily able to reach the cup of water sitting on top of the tray over his legs. He had begun to get back a lot of his strength after dealing with a week of doctors and nurses doing tests and checking on him every single hour that seemed as though it would never go away. He grabbed the cup and held it to his lips, drinking as he looked up at the television screen, watching the show he should have been apart of the last two weeks. Now that Shawn was able to sit up, to little bits of pain here and there, he figured he'd be clear by now. But, no, it didn't happen that way.

As Shawn put the cup back on the tray, he got a glimpse of Ric Flair grappling in the ring with one of the members of the Nation of Domination. Shawn had been away for so long he had almost forgotten who everyone was, but yet he somehow could recall their names perfectly without counting his stress of getting the faces right. After all, the T.V. signal wasn't that impressive.

As Shawn rested comfortably back onto the bed, the door to his room opened. The same doctor appeared with a blood pressure machine in his hands.

"How are we feeling, Mr. Micheals?" The Doctor said, shutting the door and walking over to the bed.

Shawn sighed. "I don't want anymore tests."

"I'm sorry, but, it's our job to get you back into perfect shape." The Doctor grabbed Shawn's arm gently and circled the pad around his arm, tightening it as he squeezed the ball in his hand to create pressure.

Shawn winced, the pain just as bad as it was the other times before this. "Ow, it hurts!"

"Sorry, Mr. Michaels. We're almost through."

"H-How many more days do I have left?"

The Doctor looked up from the machine. "Oh...about...two more and you'll be fine." The Doctor took the pad off of Shawn's aching arm and quickly smiled. "You've got better circulation. Your pulse is good. I'm sure with a few more days rest you'll recover fast enough."

Shawn smiled faintly. "Thanks."

"Can I get you anything?"

"Can I have some food?"

The Doctor laughed. "Well, I'm sure we can work that out for you. I'll tell the nurse to bring you some soup."

Shawn smiled as the Doctor turned and left the room, shutting the door. He was relieved that he was finally going to eat something. He hadn't eaten since, well, since the beating. Shawn shivered and quickly turned his attention back to the T.V. screen, where Ric Flair's hand was raised high above his head as the Nation of Domination quickly gathered around their injured friend.

"...And next week the Nation of Domination will all be in action against the Hart Foundation. Now, let's get back to Gene Oakerland as he interviews..."

Hearing Vince's voice was bad enough, but hearing the name of Bret's tag team was worse. Shawn shivered again at the words, his mind not letting the images of Bret and his friends beating him to a pulp in the boiler room. Shawn looked down and picked up the same magazine he had read through over and over again until he couldn't read anymore. He scanned the pictures of men lifting weights and popular bands making headlines about concerts near the area. Shawn placed the magazine back on the little table and drank some more water, trying hard to not think about Bret. He couldn't get him out no matter how hard he tried.

Then, someone knocked on the door.

"I don't want anymore tests!" Shawn screamed.

"Okay, I'll just leave!" A familiar voice called.

Shawn smiled. "Raz? Is that you?"

The door opened, revealing the man behind it, a wide grin on his face. "Yes, Shawn, who do you think it is?"

Razor quickly closed the door and walked over to Shawn, giving him a hug that lasted about a minute.

"I've missed you and Diesel so much." Shawn said, his head on Razor's chest.

"Yeah, I've missed you, too," Razor said, letting Shawn go and looking around the room. "I can see why now."

Shawn laughed. "It's crazy in this place. I haven't ate in the two weeks here."

"They didn't want you to get any sicker than you were, Shawn. Do you feel any better?"

Shawn shrugged. "I feel okay. Better than last week."

"What happened last week?"

"I began to feel dizzy and that guy had to hold my hair back as I was coughing up blood and throwing up everywhere. He gave me a sip of water before that. I remember Diesel yelling for help, and then I don't remember what happened next. I woke up in the bed and no one was there except a nurse. She told me I was gonna be okay."

Razor placed a hand on Shawn's shoulder. "Diesel stopped by before moving on to the next town and he was told by the Doctor's you were unconscious. He hated to leave you, but he did."

"Is he here?"

"No. He's not here. He's not at the arena either."

Shawn looked at Razor in surprise. "What do you mean?"

"They...Shawn...this isn't easy to say," Razor said, now walking across the room. He looked at Shawn from the corner of his eye. "They...they sent him home."

Shawn grabbed the cup of water from the tray, almost squeezing the cup. "What do you mean?"

Razor watched as Shawn brought the cup to his lips, waiting for the right time to talk. When Shawn was finished, he said, "Shawn...they...they suspended him."

Shawn's eyes grew wide. "W-What?"

"They suspended him." Razor said, a little slower.

Shawn looked down, his eyes full of anger, his fists burning from the way he had them closed. His fingernails digging into his skin. He saw the tray in front of him, and, without thinking, he grabbed it with both hands and broke it off the bed, throwing it into the blank wall in front of him. The echos were loud in both Shawn and Razor's ears. Razor went over to the bed and touched Shawn's shoulder gently, but Shawn shrugged it off as he continued to look down, tears swollen in his eyes.

"Shawn..." Razor said, rubbing Shawn's hair.

Shawn shrugged off the touch. "Why?! Why?! What did he ever do to deserve this?! When did this happen?! I want to know! Tell me!"

Razor pushed the hair out of his eyes as he watched Shawn begin to cry. He tried his best to comfort him, but it didn't work the way he planned.

"Come on, Shawn, it wont last forever. He's coming back in two weeks time."

"Too much time! Too much time! Why did this happen?!" Shawn kept screaming in-between sobs as his head was buried into his aching hands.

"You want the truth?" Razor asked, a little angry himself.

"Yes, I want the truth." Shawn sobbed.

"Then stop acting like a baby and listen to me."

Shawn looked up a little, shocked. "Wha-What did you just say?"

"I said to listen to me."

"No," Shawn said, his hands now in his lap, covered in tears. "No, before that. You said that I-I was a-"

Shawn began sobbing harder. His hands now coming back to his face. But before they could make contact, Razor grabbed them furiously and held them in place in front of his chest, his grip hard and tough. It felt like needles picking at Shawn's skin.

"Ow! Stop, Raz! Your hurting me!" Shawn sobbed, his face and eyes no longer its original color.

"See? This is what I'm talking about!" Razor said, yelling in Shawn's face.

Shawn whimpered as the grip loosened, its pressure leaving a stinging effect. He tried to comprehend what he had been told.

"What happened to Diesel? Why did they suspended him?" Shawn whispered, his sobs loosened.

Razor let Shawn's hands go, knocking them gently against the bed. Shawn winced from the impact.

"He got suspended because they found him fighting a superstar not scheduled for the show."

"W-Why would he do that?"

Razor sighed. "To protect you, that's why."

"He didn't have to do that." Shawn whispered.

"He wanted to. He blacked out, he said. Didn't remember a thing. All he remembered was seeing Bret down the hall and then he-"

"Wait. He saw Bret? And then he blacked out?" Shawn gasped. "You're not saying he-"

"Yes, Shawn. He grabbed Bret and punched him a few good times, then he kicked him and made him kiss the walls a couple of times until all of the superstars had to pull him off of Bret. Even that weird guy had to help."

Shawn's eyes narrowed. "No...He didn't need to do that..."

"But, just think, Shawn, Bret's not going to be at next week's show he's so beat up. I bet this time around he'll realize he messed with the wrong guys."

Shawn shook his head. "Bret wouldn't listen to anyone who told him he's not good enough."

A few hours later, Shawn was able to get to sleep after quickly shutting off the television and offered to let Razor stay the night, but Razor had to go back to the hotel to rest up, being he didn't like hospital chairs.

Shawn was so tired he managed to drift off to sleep fast, the darkness around him just the same as the darkness he felt inside. The anger he felt when he learned the horrible truth that Diesel was suspended. But, then again, Shawn did smile at the fact Bret got torn to pieces by his friend. At the same time, however, Shawn felt that Bret wasn't going to take what happened lightly. Bret was never the one to let things go and not do something about it.

Shawn felt secure in his world, feeling the peace upon him as he was laying on his back, trying to make use of the little bits of light he was now starting to see. He was suddenly drifting off into another place. A place that looked so familiar to him. The place he felt powerful and okay. He saw the ring and all of the people cheering him, yet some had been booing him the entire night. More cheers than expected, and, most of all, he didn't expect to look down and see his opponent.

Owen Hart was at Shawn's feet, trying to stand. Something Shawn felt that he had seen somewhere before.

Owen then crawled over to the ring post and quickly staggered to his feet. Shawn smiled and got the crowd roaring as he prepared to end this weird trance with a sweet chin music. However, Owen was too far ahead, and even Shawn knew he could break his leg trying to make it over too far across the ring. He walked over and grabbed Owen by his legs. It seemed so real to him. Where had he seen this before?

His thoughts were interrupted when Owen twisted over in mid-air and slapped Shawn's face with his boot. Shawn staggered, his legs buckling, and quickly fell to the mat. Okay, not a good fall. Shawn could feel his whole body ache as he tried to stand back up. He heard something in his ear, and he looked up a little to see a Referee near him. Where did he come from?

Shawn tried to clear his head, but quickly felt his legs lifting, then he felt the presence of Owen's legs trying to twist Shawn's body into the sharpshooter. Shawn opened his eyes and slapped Owen. Where he got the strength was a mystery. He saw how Owen was touching his eye and jaw. Must have been pretty hard. Shawn smiled and got back on his feet, an adrenaline rush pouring into his whole being.

Owen came over to Shawn and hit him a few times, but the punches seemed like soft ones to Shawn. He quickly managed to run towards the ropes and try to grab at Owen, but he flipped over onto his feet and pushed Owen the other way. Owen flew over the ropes, thankfully not hitting the audience. The people were cheering and clapping so loud Shawn didn't even realize he was hanging from his hands gripping the top rope. He adjusted them so he could get back into the ring, and succeeded, flying over the ropes.

It was so real, this dream. Shawn wanted to stay in it, posing a little for the crowd. Then, suddenly, his heart began racing as his head began to hurt. Bad. His brain was stinging and his legs began to wobble. He tried to lift his arms, but he couldn't barely lift them. He shook his head, his eyes looking everywhere, seeing the people, their cheers and chants slow and slurred. He looked over a the Referee. His back was turned. Shawn wobbled a few more times before he finally felt the mat under him. His eyes shut fast as he tried to catch his breath, until he couldn't see nothing.

The next thing he knew, he was looking at the ceiling, Vince and some other people looking at him, concerned. Shawn tried to look around, hearing voices near him, and quickly found a breathing mask on his mouth, causing him to hold his tongue, wanting to ask questions.

"Can't we do something?" Someone asked. Shawn could tell it was the Referee talking.

"He'll be okay. He'll be okay."

Shawn saw white again, this time in the form of a wall. He realized he had opened his eyes from the dream. The dream he knew was real before anyone could tell him otherwise. He remembered that night, how he got the fans chanting and cheering. Then, he just fainted. Disappointing everyone, he figured.

Sitting up in the pitch black, Shawn collected himself from the actual dream, thankful he didn't have to live that again.

"When was that?" He whispered to himself.

Now he remembered. It was in three years ago in November. He was facing Owen Hart in a singles match. He had caught his throat on the bottom rope and it cut off his breathe for awhile, or at least that's what the doctor said when he woke up again in the hospital similar to this one.

Shawn decided to lay back on the bed, remembering that horrible moment. He had had plenty over his career, but none of that seemed to matter now knowing he had been beaten by Bret and his friends.

A day later, Shawn was clear to leave. A day shorter than expected, but, Shawn was able to get dressed in his regular clothes and call Razor from a payphone and tell him to pick him up. Shawn was delighted to go back to work again, he wouldn't want to miss this show for the world. It just so happened to be in Dallas, Texas for the time being. As Razor picked Shawn up, they both ate something and quickly drove to Dallas, crossing four extra states to do so.

Shawn was so excited he began to talk about his childhood memories visiting Dallas, and Razor seemed to have listened, but looked a little out of it compared to what he had looked like visiting Shawn. Razor smiled and laughed a couple of times, and Shawn saw that they had crossed the Texas border before he could even say so himself.

At the new hotel, Shawn and Razor saw many of the superstars walking around the lobby. Mostly tag teams. Legion of Doom was sitting in the corner as the Nation of Domination was standing up and laughing at their leader's stories. Shawn gulped when he saw how many superstars were in the place, and wished he hadn't been so early to find a good room. As Razor got their room number, Shawn noticed Bret's friends among the one's standing in the lobby. Shawn grinned, but it faded when he saw them step aside for Bret himself to come through.

Razor noticed this, walking over to Shawn. "I thought we got rid of him for the next couple of weeks."

Shawn sighed. "We have to take the elevator, don't we?"

"Well, our room is on the third floor."

"Isn't there any stairs?" Shawn looked at Razor, serious. Razor shrugged and tugged Shawn's arm as they both made way towards the elevator. Shawn lowered his head as he tried to race quickly passed everyone in his and Razor's way. He smiled a little when they were almost there, but the smile faded when he heard a laugh overcoming all of the conversations in the room.

"Awww...little Shawn showed up to work today." Bret sneered, the evil grin on his face.

Razor pushed the button on the elevator door and waited as he let Shawn's arm go. Shawn stood there, realizing he hadn't seen or touched the title in two weeks. Where he left it he didn't know, and prayed it wasn't lost.

"What's the matter, loser? Didn't have a clean pair of clothes to wear? Oh, wait, he's been in the hospital."

Bret's friends snickered and laughed as Bret grinned wider, more evil overflowing in him.

"Leave me alone." Shawn whispered.

"What's that? I can't hear you." Bret said, walking over to Shawn and cupping his ear with his hand.

Shawn smiled when he saw the elevator open, Razor giving him a single to come into it with him, but he stood there and watched as Bret uncupped his ear, grinning.

"That's what I thought." Bret said, turning his back.

Shawn put one foot in the elevator, but not before he turned around and whispered, "I'm glad Diesel got to you."

Shawn quickly got into the elevator as soon as the doors closed on Bret and his friends, Bret turned back to look at Shawn with eyes of fury.

Razor snickered as the elevator went up. "Wow. You got him."

"Maybe." Shawn said, his head lowered.

When the elevator came to a stop, Shawn and Razor quickly got out and found their room, but not before Shawn felt a tap on his shoulder. Shawn gulped when he saw Hunter in front of him, narrowing his eyes from Hunter's stare.

Hunter smiled. "Welcome back. These are yours."

Shawn looked down. In Hunter's hand held a bag that looked full of clothes and what not. Shawn saw the title scrapped to the bag, its shining appearance blinding him for a second.

Shawn smiled a little, watching Razor enter the room and leaving Shawn behind. Hunter looked at Razor a second before watching Shawn take the bag.

"Thanks...um..."

"Hunter."

Shawn laughed, followed by Hunter. It lasted a minute before Hunter decided to talk.

"I'm, uh, down the hall in room 606 if you need me. Glad your doing okay. We met on bad terms last time."

Shawn nodded, clutching the bag in his hands. He remembered Razor and decided to step back, his hand on the doorknob. He almost tripped when he felt the bag come down on his legs with a force.

"Careful!" Hunter said, grabbing Shawn's arm gently.

"Thanks...Hunter." Shawn said with a smile, finally getting the name right.

Hunter smiled. "See you soon."

As Hunter turned and walked down the hall to his room, Shawn smiled a little and turned towards the door, going inside the room as he saw Razor already laying on the bed opposite of his. Shawn went to his bed and took the title off of the bag, easily removing the tape and sticking it on the side of the bed before checking to see if all of his attires were there. He counted, the number correct, and quickly checked his street clothes. All was present, even his hairbrush and toothpaste with the toothbrush was there. Things started to get back to normal, but not as normal without Diesel.

Shawn sighed, thinking of his friend as he quickly found some new clothes. He looked over at Razor sleeping soundly and quickly went into the bathroom and locked the door. He cut on the water to the shower and quickly got out of his clothes, soon feeling the hot water on his skin.

As the steam rose from the shower, Shawn remembered all that had happened in the past few weeks and quickly found himself leaning against the wall, his arm supporting his weight as the water engulfed his head and came down his hair and down his skin. He felt the hot water and it felt so good he wanted to stay under it forever. He then, once again, thought about the events that had happened.

Shawn felt sorrow and pain for the first time since he left the hospital. Of course, he had cried in front of Razor back there, but he didn't mean to be too upset about Diesel. He felt horrible for what Bret and his friend's did to him. Their faces and laughs a clear memory to Shawn, suddenly feeling that cold water again tickling down his skin. He looked up, and the steam was still there, but the water was ice cold. Shawn felt a tear run down his face, feeling his throat begin to hurt from a sob making way, more sobs following, along with tears. Not even the faces of Hunter and Razor, or the fact he was back at doing what he loved, or that he was so close to home, could break his emotions.

He sobbed louder and louder, tears flowing down his face, knowing the shower couldn't let his friend know his pain.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**12:05 A.M.**

Razor opened his eyes and slowly rolled over onto the back, able to look over at the other side of the room, noises coming from the bed opposite of his. He grunted as he sat up, able to swing his legs over the bed, and quickly get up. The noises had been bothering him.

He walked over and pulled the sheet from over Shawn's head, the noises getting louder and rougher.

"Shawn," Razor whispered. "Shawn, wake up."

The noises continued as Shawn laid on his stomach, his eyes twitching in his sleep. He looked peaceful, but Razor knew better.

Razor touched Shawn's shoulder and shook it, like the many times before. "Shawn, wake up."

Shawn opened his eyes with a short gasp, catching himself from getting any louder. He twisted onto his side as Razor's hand left his shoulder.

"W-What's wrong?" Shawn asked, blinking to see straight.

"You're moaning in your sleep."

Shawn looked at Razor, confused. "You sure?"

"Why else would I come to wake you?"

Shawn sighed, rolling onto his back. "I'm sorry."

Razor sighed himself, walking over towards the bathroom, his back to Shawn. Shawn frowned and quickly sat up in his bed, his head in his hands. He wiped his eyes and laid back first into the bed, closing his eyes to try to get back to sleep.

Then, Razor came out of the bathroom like a loud train, the door slammed against the wall, leaving a dent.

"Where's my comb?"

Shawn kept his eyes closed, shrugging his shoulders. Then, he felt a heavy force lifting him, and soon found himself opening his eyes looking directly into Razor's angry eyes.

"Where's my comb?!"

Shawn felt scared. "I-I don't know."

"You don't know? Oh, I think you do know."

"I'm telling you, I don't know."

Razor loosened his grip, not realizing he had slammed Shawn onto the bed, and walked back into the bathroom, his feet stomping the floor, and opened all of the cabinets in sight, knocking some clean out onto the floor.

"You're making too much noise." Shawn said, rubbing the back off his head.

"I'm not stupid. I'm not stupid, Shawn. If anyone would have taken my comb it would've been you."

Razor was now looking at Shawn, his eyes enraged with anger. Shawn tried his best to meet Razor's gaze, but he fell short of doing so and looked at the sheets on the bed, thinking that hopefully this would go away. Razor's feet stamped the floor again and, this time, he was in front of the mirror in the room. He looked in all of the drawers, but didn't find anything, all of the materials on the dresser thrown onto the floor.

Shawn immediately got out of his bed and quickly walked towards the bathroom, but Razor caught him by the shoulder and flung him around, his grip tight.

"Ah! You're hurting me!" Shawn yelled.

"Let me see your wrist." Razor glared.

Shawn's eyes widened. "N-No."

"You sure?"

"Y-Yes."

"Okay."

Razor let the grip on Shawn fall, but, as soon as Shawn dashed towards the bathroom again, he grabbed Shawn, screaming, and held his wrists into the light of the bathroom.

"Raz, stop! Please! Stop!"

Razor looked close at Shawn's wrist, seeing the damage. Only the right wrist was altered, but he knew Shawn had damaged his left before. Really, it was when they went at it the last time.

"I can't believe you." Shawn glared, panting from all that had happened.

"I can't believe you." Razor said, letting Shawn's wrists come back to Shawn's side, letting them go.

Shawn stood there looking at his hands before finally letting them down completely. Razor sighed and touched Shawn's shoulder.

"Where's my comb?"

Shawn refused to look at his friend. He sighed. "Under your bed."

Razor's eyes widened and walked over to his bed, looking under it in the dark of the room. He felt around and managed to feel the cold and sharp tips of the comb. His comb. He pulled it out and looked at it, not being able to see in the dark. He then walked towards the bathroom's light, but, as he almost made it, he could feel Shawn's hand on his shoulder.

"Please, Raz. I can explain. Please."

Razor shrugged off the hand and looked at the comb, his figure possibly blocking the doorway. The comb seemed normal, but soon he saw the jagged teeth look even more chipped and, worst of all, he saw hints of blood on the ends.

Razor sighed and turned towards Shawn, whose head hung low towards the ground.

"Explain." Razor said.

Shawn lifted his eyes a little. "I...I couldn't help it. I felt so...angry. I'm sorry."

"Angry at what? The hospital? The Doctors? Me? Diesel? Who?"

"Why does it matter? I gave your precious comb back to you."

"Why were you angry, Shawn?"

"Can I go to bed?"

"No," Razor shouted. "You're going to tell me and you're going to tell me now!"

Shawn shifted his eyes as he took a step back from Razor's huge figure about to slam into him as Razor took a step forward. He didn't want to talk anymore. His heart felt heavy as his eyes misted with tears.

"Are you crying?" Razor asked.

"N-No, I'm n-not crying." Shawn said, trying to keep his composer.

"You're about to. I see that water in your eyes."

"Please...I want to go to bed...okay? Please?"

Razor huffed. "Whatever. I'm keeping this with me."

Razor shoved his way past Shawn and walked towards his bed, where he quickly set the comb on the dresser beside his bed and adjusted the blanket over him, not once looking at Shawn. Shawn let his eyes come up, seeing the light of the bathroom door, and looked up completely, his neck beginning to ache. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door, not caring if it was to cause a bigger hole in the wall.

Razor sighed and quickly grabbed the comb, able to place it in the space of the bed and the mattress under it. He then pulled back one of the magazines and pulled out a white bottle, opening the cap.

In the bathroom, Shawn bent over the sink and closed his eyes, trying to find the strength to get his hands towards the running water. He finally managed to do so when a tear crawled down his face, able to get the cold water on his face. Some of his long hair got wet, but he didn't care at times like this. He sighed and stood up straight, looking at himself in the mirror. He noticed the huge frown he had on his face and looked down at his hands. The damage on his right wrist stood out among all of the water drops. Blood left over crawled down his hand towards his thumb. He sighed and touched his hand, the blood now coming onto his fingertips. He lowered both of his hands into the sink and washed them off. Once the blood was gone, he grabbed a nearby towel and wiped them off, but winced when he rubbed too much on the scars. He now felt satisfied, cutting off the water and spotted his old clothes on the floor next to the shower.

He walked over and picked them up, past all of the objects on the floor, no longer feeling anymore burning or aching sensations in his body. He held the clothes in his hand and walked towards the door, opening it and seeing the darkness of the room.

Walking over to the side of his bed, Shawn found his bag and placed his clothes inside, covering the attires and objects. He zipped up the bag and stood up, seeing Razor sleeping on his side. Shawn walked back towards the bathroom and cut off the light, carefully not tripping over the objects on the floor. He walked back to his bed and laid down in it, getting a glimpse of Razor stirring in his sleep.

Shawn looked up at the ceiling as he heard Razor breathing on the other side of the room.

"Please," Shawn whispered. "Please don't tell anyone."

Nothing but the darkness was around Shawn, and not one sound was heard. Shawn managed to slip onto his side, a tear rolling down his face.

"How many times do we have to keep doing this?" Razor whispered, loud enough for Shawn to hear.

Shawn closed his eyes tight as another tear rolled on his face and down to the pillow, hitting it without a sound. He could hear Razor's sigh and quickly managed to find his place back in his own world.

**8:26 A.M.**

Shawn gathered all of the materials off of the bathroom floor as he continued to wait for Razor to come back. They had to get to the arena today for the show, and practice had to be done. Shawn felt tired and groggy, wanting nothing more to do than sleep and forget about the show. But he knew he couldn't forget. He wanted to see the fans. At least they could, in one way or another, brighten up his day, even if they liked him or not.

The door opened, and Shawn limply smiled as he placed all of the objects in his hands on the counter, still having a lot more to go. Why did Razor need any of that stuff anyway?

"Looks like a tornado came through here."

Shawn looked over at the sound of the voice. It wasn't Razor's. Instead, he got a glimpse of a man in a white shirt and dark blue jeans.

"How'd you get in here?" Shawn said, deadpan. Not wanting to talk.

"I happened to have found your friend and he shoved a key card in my hand for no reason. I could only guess it was your room. Maybe he thought I was you."

"No," Shawn lifted a can of hairspray. "He knew I was in here."

Hunter sighed as he looked around the room, all of the objects on the floor were busted open or happened to be broken, like the cabinets.

"Did something happen in here last night?"

Shawn looked down as he rubbed his hands together. "We had a little fight."

"Hmm. Well, I guess it's not my place."

"I'd stay out of it, too. If I could."

"What do you mean?"

Just then, the door opened, and Hunter looked towards the door while Shawn kept his head down. Razor's figure blocked the bathroom door as he glared at Hunter up and down.

"I thought maybe Shawn needed some company," Razor looked at Shawn. "I know he gets angry when he's alone."

Shawn kept looking at the ground, wanting nothing to do with Razor right now. He knew what he had done to make him made, but, still, it was better to stay quite and not risk getting screamed at by a man taller than you.

"No wonder you threw that card at me." Hunter said, laughing.

"Believe me," Razor said, picking his bag up off the floor. "It's not a joke."

Hunter looked down, then back up fast. "Well, I guess I'll be leaving."

"No. You better stay with him." Razor lifted the mattress and got his comb out from under the edges, along with something he quickly got from the magazine stand that he couldn't forget. "Just make sure he gets to the arena."

"Wait, what?" Shawn asked, walking towards the door.

"You heard me right, new guy?" Razor asked, that boom in his voice.

"Yeah. Sure. I'll...take Shawn to the arena. I've got no one else to drive with."

"But Raz," Shawn asked, looking at Razor from the bathroom doorway. "What about your things in here?"

Razor walked towards the two men, who made way for the big man to come through. Razor collected all of the materials from the counter and floor and stuffed them into his bag without even considering the mess he was making inside the bag, the materials on top of his attires and clothes. He made way towards the room, where he picked up some of the stuff that was his and put it in his hands, the look on his face telling the story. He walked past the two men and to the door, which slammed behind him.

Shawn looked up at Hunter, who was giving Shawn a confused look. The look on Shawn's face was just as confusing.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

"This is awkward." Hunter said as he managed to pick up some of Shawn's things from the floor.

Shawn looked up from getting his bag on the bed. "Why?"

"I've never had to drive with someone before."

Shawn smiled faintly. He knew what that was like, being he never actually drove, but sat alone on a tour bus full of talking and yelling superstars. He managed to adjust the title on the bed to get the objects he had picked up into his bed.

"Why do you prefer driving?" Shawn asked, Hunter walking towards him.

"Helps me get my mind off things. I'm pretty much one of those guys that needs to be alone sometimes to set things right. You get that way?"

Shawn had to think about it. He put his things, that Hunter had set onto the bed, into his bag. "Sort of."

Hunter sighed, looking around the room. "Well...I think that's everything. You want to walk to my room with me?"

Shawn looked up, almost wide eyed. He had never been asked that before. Or rather, he had never been in another hotel room besides the one's he and Razor or Diesel pick out.

"Um...sure." Shawn said, zipping his bag up.

Hunter smiled and walked towards the door, opening it. Shawn walked out of the room with a limp smile while Hunter closed the door. The two men walked down the empty hallway and quickly found Hunter's room. Shawn was amazed that it was down the hall the whole time. Hunter pulled out his key card and unlocked the door, letting Shawn in first before him.

As soon as Shawn entered the room, the smell of cologne hit his nostrils and made him cough. Hunter laughed and quickly managed to get over to his bed, grabbing his bag.

"Sorry about the smell. It's hard choosing which cologne to wear these days."

Shawn had to put his hand to his nose, the smell was that strong. He still managed to hold the title in his other hand.

"How do you stand it?" He asked, muffled.

"It's not easy. I started coughing the first time I entered this room after a sprayed all the cologne I had and almost died."

Hunter started laughing, but he stopped when he noticed the look on Shawn's face. Shawn's hand went back to his side as he took in the words, remembering Bret all of a sudden.

"Sorry." Hunter said, looking down.

"I'm okay." Shawn said, almost a whisper.

Hunter gathered a couple of things from his dresser while Shawn looked around, amazed at what he was seeing. He looked at himself in a mirror and quickly looked at all of the cologne bottles lined in a row. Hunter came over and grabbed one of them.

"You want a little?"

Then, Hunter sprayed the bottle on Shawn's chest. Shawn jumped from the impact, the mist of the cologne on his skin. Hunter laughed a little and Shawn started to laugh, but only a few seconds.

Hunter noticed this. "Come on, I'm just messing with you. I'd figure you'd need a good laugh after your fight with Razor."

Shawn smiled and smelled the cologne on his arm. "I smell like apples."

Hunter looked confused. "It's cherry."

"No, that's for sure apples."

"It's cherry. Look at the label."

Hunter lifted the bottle towards Shawn's face, Shawn looking at the label carefully. Shawn leaned back quickly after reading it.

"Hmm...maybe it is cherry. Still," Shawn smelled his arm again. "It smells like apples."

Hunter smiled and took the cologne bottle and placed it in his bag, along with the other bottles. Shawn walked over to a chair and saw a black sheet covering it. He picked it up, dropping the title on the floor in the process, and studied it. It looked like a coat of some kind. It did have sleeves and it looked as if it would come down to your legs.

"That's my attire. Well, part of it." Hunter said, looking over at Shawn while putting his hairbrush in his bag.

"This?" Shawn asked.

"Yeah. Its, uh, unique. To me at least." Hunter walked over and Shawn handed him the coat.

"I'd show you the rest, but all of my stuff is on top of it."

"It's fine."

Hunter walked back over to his bed and put the coat in his bag, then zipped the bag and placed it over his shoulder. Shawn grabbed the title from off of the floor and quickly gripped the bag over his shoulder. They both made it out of the room and Hunter closed the door. The two men walked beside each other as they both descended down the hallway, able to keep up with one another. Shawn kept his head down as he gripped both the bag and the title on each shoulder, hoping that he wouldn't have any trouble since this was his first day back to work.

In the car, Hunter had placed his bag in the backseat while Shawn decided to keep his with him, along with the title. As the bag was on the floor as the title was in his lap, Shawn managed to breath deep when he saw the road in front of him leading towards a destination he wanted to, and sometimes didn't want to, be. He wanted to see the fans and possibly his friend, but it couldn't shudder the fact that Bret was there. He did have a tendency to be there earlier than anyone else.

"You okay?" Hunter asked, keeping his eye on the road.

Shawn nodded, trying to block out the memories of Bret and his friends. He wanted to leave them in the past, but it was hard every time he tried to do so.

"I've heard your entrance is a bit unique." Hunter said, smiling.

"You could say that." Shawn said, looking down.

"I think mine's unique, too. But it doesn't have much too it. What do you do in yours?"

"My entrance?" Shawn asked. A question he had never answered before.

"Yeah."

"Um...well...I just walk out...show off the title...smile...twirl in a circle and dance."

"Dance? You dance?"

"Well, sort of. I'm not big into the whole dancing thing. But it gets the crowd going."

"Who taught you how to dance?"

"No one, really. I just move to the beat of my theme is all."

"I don't dance in my entrance. I basically walk to the ring, do some crazy posture thing, and basically have a woman, of whom I don't know, take off my coat. That's about it."

"Sounds boring." Shawn said, laughing.

"It is after awhile. But it's for the heck of it. I love this job."

"Me too."

Shawn hung his head when he realized how stupid he was for lying to someone he barley knew.

Jose gave Shawn a pat on the knee as he exchanged looks of concern towards the younger man. He hadn't been able to get in touch with Shawn since the last match, and that was really the last time he had seen Shawn's face not looked too bruised up under his eyes and towards the end of his face.

"I'm sorry, Jose," Shawn said, looking down at the floor. "I'm really sorry."

"I know. You didn't know that was going to happen to you." Jose smiled, but faded when he saw Shawn like this. Not the same boy he remembered.

Shawn looked out into the empty hallway. The hallway that led to the curtain. He could have sworn he could hear those fans out there, screaming their heads off to chant and cheer their favorite superstars. Shawn knew he couldn't have been one of them. Then again, he got a lot of cheers from time to time, but it wasn't the same. Since he hadn't been in the show for two weeks, he had to come to reality when he learned that Razor had been put in a storyline where he was to be up against One-Two-Three Kid. Then again, the One-Two-Three Kid wasn't such a bad guy. He was nice and didn't seem to bother anyone. Shawn had only met him once, during the time he had been a tag partner with Diesel. He passed by the Kid not wanting to talk, but seemed it would have been better to say hello. When Shawn managed the word to come out of his mouth, the Kid just stood there and looked at him, turning back to Diesel to talk.

Now it was the same situation. Shawn wasn't in the mood to talk, like many times before that, and Jose was in one of his talking moods. He had been sitting here for hours, nothing but gestures, little smiles, and a few bits of talk. Of course he and Hunter had been talking earlier, but now with all of the tension leading towards the match, Shawn had nothing more to do but think. Shawn was really tired, resting his body on the steel container had to be a solution than that of the bed he laid on in the hotel room. Shawn's head had been clouded, barely able to get much sleep for the past week just like last night. How Shawn dreamed of being champion turned into something like this. He now had that title on his waist, in plain sight to those who want to come up and slap him for good measure, or, better yet, just talk to him. Shawn didn't like that belt sitting on his waist, no matter how many times before he enjoyed the feeling or rather dreamed of enjoying it.

Shawn snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Jose's voice.

"Shawn? Shawn?"

"What?" Shawn whispered.

"Do you know why someone would do this to you?"

Shawn exhaled deeply, a shrug on his shoulders. "I don't know."

Jose's eyes narrowed. He had been worried about Shawn since he learned his student was in the hospital. He tried to go to see him, but his family's problems got in the way. He couldn't leave them.

"Do you know who did this, Shawn?" He asked.

Shawn kept looking at the ground. He began to feel his neck burning from the position. He clenched his fists, the scars visible, and quickly got up from the big steel container and began to walk down the hallway.

"Shawn!" Jose called.

Shawn kept walking. The floor felt cold as he walked this way. His jaw was clenched, his teeth touching. His whole body felt shattered. Broken. He felt his heart beating faster, just wanting to get away from all of this pain he was taking. He passed a few girls sitting in their locker room, the door open, and giggled when Shawn walked past. Shawn's blue eyes felt shattered, tired, weak. Looking at the floor was all he could do. Not even considering the consequences if he was to run into someone along the way down the hall. His head hung low, the way he wanted it to. He could almost feel the walls close in on him. He was breathing heavily at every step he took. When he finally reached his destination, he soon opened the door and went inside. He slammed the door after attempting to close it a couple of times. He had turned down the hallway without realizing it, heading in the opposite direction of the arena.

Shawn could feel his head begin to pound. It hurt, just as it always did. His headaches were a constant theme as of late, especially when Razor slammed it against the bed. He quickly grabbed a chair and sat down in it, bringing his hands to his face as his forehead touched his fingertips. His hair hung limp on the sides of his face and shoulders. He didn't care if some of it had fallen into his hands, smelling the vanilla conditioner he loved so much, as he continued to breath deep. His headache began to increase. It hurt so bad he wanted to scream.

The door opened in the distance, causing Shawn to release the hold on his hands and quickly looked up, seeing Razor on the other side of the room. Razor's grin wasn't much help to Shawn, but it did relieve the tension between Shawn and his feelings itself. Shawn looked back down as soon as Razor began walking towards him.

"What happened, Shawn?" Razor asked.

"Nothing," Shawn sighed. "I just have a bad headache."

Shawn heard footsteps in his ears when he closed his eyes, trying to relieve the pain. The sounds of boots on the floor didn't help at all, only letting his head hurt even worse. Then, a shadow came over him and Shawn looked up a little, not able to make eye contact when he saw Razor's hand extended with two white pills in one hand with a bottle of water in the other.

"Take these, Shawn." Razor said.

Without thinking, Shawn took the pills first, placing them in his mouth just as he began to grab the water bottle and unseal the cap, able to swallow the pills with the water without difficulty.

"Will it help?" Shawn asked, wiping away drops of water on his lips.

"It should. Helps me when I'm in pain."

Shawn smiled limply, the pain in his head still there. He had hoped for it to ease off by the time his match was to start.

"If you ever need anymore, you come to me, okay?" Razor said, his back turned to Shawn as he placed something in his bag.

Shawn smiled as he saw Razor's mood had improved. He was happy that his friend had calmed down and stayed that way. Razor had been in his weird mood swings as of late, but Shawn didn't want to worry about that now. Instead, he unbuckled the title around his waist and looked at it, trying hard not to strain his eyes in the process.

"Shawn." A voice called.

Shawn looked up, able to see Hunter had made it into the locker room.

"Oh, hey...Hunter." Shawn said, placing the title on the floor beside him.

Razor looked at Hunter, able to stand straight from leaning over to stretch his muscles.

"Why are you here?" Razor asked, concerned.

"I have a new locker, remember? Your other friend told you that, I think."

"Oh, yeah, right. Just make sure you don't take anything of mine."

"Will do." Hunter moved over to his locker on the far side of the room and opened it after cracking the code. He unhooked the lock and quickly set his street clothes in his locker. Shawn had failed to realize what Hunter was holding. The pills Razor gave him must have kicked in.

Shawn looked at Hunter's attire. Nothing but black, and that same coat from earlier came down to his knees. He had a cane in hand. His hair was pulled back just like Shawn's.

"Nice outfit." Shawn said, his head suddenly becoming clearer.

"Thanks," Hunter said, smiling. "Your's isn't half as bad."

Shawn looked at his attire. Sure, he was once again wearing the zebra one. But that was really the only attire that seemed clean since he hadn't been able to clean them for two weeks.

"Thanks, Hunter." Shawn said, then looked at the floor.

Just then, a Referee came into the doorway of the locker room.

"Hunter Helmsley, Shawn Michaels, your match is up next."

"What?" Shawn whispered.

"Oh, did I forget to tell you, Shawn?" Razor smiled.

"Tell me what?" Shawn asked.

"You and him are competing tonight. Against each other."

Shawn cleared his throat and stood up. "Thanks for not telling me."

Razor laughed as both Shawn and Hunter left the locker room. Shawn then ran back in to grab the title and succeeded, getting more laughs from Razor.

"Not funny, Raz." Shawn whispered.

As Shawn managed to get out into the hallway, he saw that Hunter had already been gone. Shawn sighed and quickly walked down the hall, able to catch a glimpse of a few superstars walking down the hall towards him. They didn't talk to him, but just passed him. A feeling Shawn never thought was possible. Shawn managed to get towards the curtain, already hearing classical music in his ears and the fans jeering chants. Shawn grew confused a second, hearing the music. He felt like he was in a mansion rather than a wrestling arena. Then, Jose came from the side and patted Shawn on the shoulder.

"Shawn," Jose said. "Why did you walk away from me earlier?"

Before Shawn could open his mouth, his music hit. Shawn wanted to answer the question, but didn't really have time to.

Jose sighed. "Tell me later, okay?"

"Okay." Shawn whispered.

Shawn walked into the black of the curtain before finally hitting the spotlight. As the music grew louder and the fans chants surprisingly better, Shawn began to feel proud. He began to feel a little weird. Like he was floating on air and not going to leave this unfamiliar zone. He had failed to catch himself before showing off to the cameras his title. He saw Hunter exit the ring, and quickly attempted to dance on the apron before his music repeated. Jose smiled as he let Shawn do his thing, letting him live in a world of peace and happiness, but he knew Shawn couldn't of been too happy these days.

Shawn clipped off the sides of his attires and managed to throw them onto the floor. He then caught sight of Hunter as he entered the ring again. Shawn noticed that Hunter didn't exactly look the same, mood wise. He seemed focused now. Like he wasn't someone to mess with.

The Referee entered the ring and quickly set up the two men before finally ringing the bell. Shawn and Hunter started off by grappling one another, holding each other until Hunter grabbed Shawn's head and held it under his arm. Shawn slapped Hunter's back, a quick gesture to loosen the hold, and Hunter did so, knocking back into the ropes and letting Shawn go, but, for some reason, hit Shawn onto the mat before Shawn could even regain his footing. Shawn looked up at Hunter, his gesture suddenly turning into a taunt. Hunter's hands extended to his sides and bowing with his right foot going behind him and coming back into place.

Shawn got up and managed to hit Hunter a few good times. Hunter reversed it and Shawn managed to escape before Hunter could have the upper hand. Jose was cheering Shawn on from the sidelines, but that didn't stop Hunter from trying to stop Shawn.

As the match continued, Shawn began to get tired despite having the upper hand. Hunter had come back a few times, but Shawn found ways to come back as well, such as grabbing Hunter's nose and holding it until the Referee started counting to stop. Shawn had let him go, but hoped he didn't break it in the process, knowing he wasn't in the mood this day to even practice before hand of this match.

As Jose kept cheering, something in Shawn lighted up. He quickly had Hunter in position for his finishing move, and, with great ease, managed to hit the sweet chin music before finally going for the pin. The Referee counted to three and the bell rang, the announcer's voice soon booming through the cheering arena. Shawn's hand was raised in victory, and quickly caught a glimpse of Hunter being checked on by some woman he had never seen before. In quickly felt the Referee tap his shoulder and got the belt from his hands. Shawn smiled, and quickly got out of the ring before Jose could get to him. As Shawn and Jose exited the arena, he saw Hunter go through the curtain in front of him.

"I hope he's okay." Shawn whispered, the cheering fans blocking anymore sounds to come to his ears.

As soon as they got backstage, Shawn looked around, but Hunter wasn't in sight. Shawn frowned, but Jose gave him a touch on the nose with his finger and made Shawn laugh.

"Now, why did you walk away from me earlier?" Jose asked.

"Jose," Shawn stretched his voice. "Do we have to talk about this? I'm fine now. I just got upset about-"

"About what?"

"About nothing. It was nothing."

Shawn managed to turn around and walk back towards the locker room, leaving Jose in the dust, shaking his head at his best student.

"I'm sorry Shawn. Maybe I'm too much trouble for you."

Shawn made his way back to the locker room, his head straight up and actually smiling at himself as he quickly made way to the room he and Razor shared, along with Hunter.

He walked in the room and saw nothing but the walls and the floor. Shawn sighed and closed the door and quickly sat the title on the chair he had left in the middle of the room. He then went through his bag and managed to pull out his hairbrush. He went towards the mirror and quickly began to brush back his hair, since he had lost his headband in the match. Managing to get the tangles out, he quickly felt at ease with himself as he began to dance slightly as he was brushing his hair, humming to himself as he kept dancing.

"You can dance."

Shawn stopped immediately and looked over to where the voice was. Hunter stood in the doorway smiling as he had a confused look.

"I didn't hear you come in." Shawn whispered.

Hunter entered the room completely and quickly opened his locker again, picking at the lock and holding it as he took out his clothes and closed his locker. Shawn felt a little embarrassed that he had been dancing, feeling his face getting hot, and quickly stopped brushing his hair.

"I was in the moment." Shawn whispered to himself.

"I get moments like that, too." Hunter said as he walked towards the bathroom.

Shawn wished Hunter hadn't heard what he said, but instead smiled a little and kept his cool. He didn't want to make a scene. He had gotten back to his bag when he saw Hunter go into the bathroom and close the door. Shawn managed to get up and place his bag on the chair next to the title and quickly open it again, wanting to wash out the attires since now was a better time than ever.

Hunter opened the door and came out, his street clothes now on. He walked over to Shawn.

"You need any help?"

"No," Shawn said fast. "No, I'm good. I'm just gonna take these to the washing machine downstairs."

"You want me to come with you?"

"No. I've got it."

Shawn managed to get out of the room before any more words could be spoken. He wanted to be left alone now, but he didn't know why. Maybe it was because of the last time he was alone, but, then again, it could have been anything. Shawn walked fast down the hall, realizing his zebra attire was still on, and decided it would have to do since he wasn't going to be down in the washing machine room for long.

Shawn managed to find the room and quickly saw the stairs leading down towards it. He gulped, remembering the last time he went down some stairs and got cornered, and descended down them slowly. He breathed heavily when he saw nothing but darkness. He felt around, and quickly found a light switch and flipped it, the lights coming on before him. He quickly found himself before the machine and opened the door, his attires dropping in one by one.

Then, he felt something drop onto his shoulder. He suddenly felt himself being turned around and, for no reason, felt a sting in his gut. He doubled over in pain as he groaned, the three men in front of him laughing.

"Hey, little H-B-K." One sneered.

"Long time no see." The other yelled.

"Get up, loser. We want to give you a welcome back party, and your the only one invited."

Shawn managed to look up and see that the men were the members of the Hart Foundation. He used the opened door of the machine to regain his footing and quickly felt his arms being tugged on, held behind his back.

As the one member was in front of him, Shawn struggled to get out of the hold of the two behind him.

"Don't worry. Bret doesn't even know we're down here."

"Let me go." Shawn struggled.

"Sorry, we can't do that." One member said, his strength powerful, holding Shawn back.

"Boss is going to love this." The man before Shawn said.

The man hit Shawn in the stomach a few timed before punching him one good time in the face before the two men dropped Shawn onto the floor, Shawn groaning and yelling from the blows he was now taking to the back of his head and legs.

"Alright!" The man said.

The two other men grabbed Shawn by his arms and held him against the wall. Then, they let go, Shawn able to catch his breath as he stood there, trying to get the strength to make a run for it once he knew where he was. Then, he felt something pour down his head and onto his shoulders. It was flaky and rough. Shawn caught sight of it being a white substance, and quickly managed to hold his hands in front of his face when a liquid was suddenly thrown at him.

"More bleach!" The man shouted, followed by the liquid pouring onto Shawn's skin and attire.

Shawn tried to get away, and, almost did run when he was caught by the two men that held him back and thrown against the wall again.

"Where you think you're going, showstopper?" One of the men said.

Shawn now felt his body slid against the wall and onto the floor, holding his hands in front of him, feeling the liquid run down his body and felt some on his hands. The men were laughing in front of him as Shawn kept his posture.

"Let's get him up. I've got an idea." The main man said.

The two other men grabbed Shawn and held him by his arms again, this time holding him in his crouched position with his hands behind his back.

Shawn looked up, seeing the main man with a huge white container in his hands.

"Please...don't..." Shawn whispered, his voice tired and sore from yelling.

The man laughed and unscrewed the cap, letting it hit the ground. Shawn tried to get away, but the two forces holding him back was stronger than him. The men all snickered and laughed as the main man himself started to tilt the container over Shawn's head.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

The men looked over, and so did Shawn, when the voice called. Shawn managed to make, from all of the hair in his face, that it was a man in a white shirt and dark blue jeans. Something he had seen before.

The main man untitled the container and held it in his hands and Hunter walked over to the four men before him.

The main man snickered. "What are you gonna do?"

Hunter smiled a little, then, from out of nowhere, hit the man straight in the gut, causing some of the bleach to fall on the man's clothes as he stumbled backward. The two men let Shawn go and walked towards Hunter, who had now gotten into a defensive state.

"Come on! You all want a piece of me?! I'll take you on! Come on!" Hunter kept yelling.

The two men stumbled back from the poured liquid and quickly grouped with the main man, who had been gripping his stomach.

"Serves you right, doesn't it? You all looked pretty tough when you were with Shawn." Hunter said.

Shawn watched what was going on and quickly got into a sitting position on the wall. Hunter managed to keep his eyes on the men as they made their way towards the stairs.

"Your not getting away with this." The man holding his gut said, pointing to Hunter.

As the men left the room completely, Hunter walked towards Shawn and crouched down next to him.

"You okay?" Hunter asked, trying to move Shawn's hair from his eyes.

Shawn winced back from Hunter's touch. "Leave me alone."

"Shawn, come on, your hurt. Let's get you out of here."

Shawn couldn't complain when he was suddenly gripped gently by Hunter, able to throw his arm over Hunter's shoulders.

"W-What about my attires?"

"I'll get them for you once I get you back to the locker room."

Shawn nodded, the pain in his body beginning the come back as he felt the sticky mess on his body come down to his legs. Hunter moved Shawn up the stairs as Shawn felt tears in his eyes.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

"Shawn, you okay in there?" Hunter called as he knocked on the bathroom door.

"Yes, I'm fine!" Shawn called, angered.

Shawn was in the shower, managing to get off all of the substances that the Hart Foundation had poured on him. He quickly let the hot water run down his long hair and down his body. The warmth of the water gave Shawn some closure to think clearly. Just as Shawn and Hunter had gotten back into the locker room, Shawn managed to get into the bathroom to take his attire off. Then, he heard Hunter say he was going to get his attires. He figured Hunter had brought them back by now, since he was asking him if he was okay for the tenth time. He managed to feel the sticky feeling go away and quickly checked his hair to see if anything was left. It wasn't long before Shawn got out of the shower and quickly dried off, managing to put his clothes on. Once his clothes were on, he unlocked the door to the bathroom and quickly walked out, holding the attire in hand.

Hunter sat in the chair, holding the title in his hands as he had been waiting for Shawn. Once he heard the door open, the put down the title and got up, looking at Shawn as he pushed a towel around his wet hair, then dropping it on the floor as he managed to keep his damaged attire in his hands.

"You okay?" Hunter asked, but could already know the answer.

Shawn laughed, as if it was funny. "No."

"I'm sorry this had to happen to you."

Shawn walked over to his attires on the ground and put them back in his bag, among them the zebra one covered in bleach, almost struggling to put them into the bag all at once. He had felt the chains on his skin and tried to push them into the bag deeper, causing Shawn to break away from the bag and sit in a nearby chair, his head in his hands. Hunter sighed, seeing Shawn like this.

"I'm glad you're okay."

Shawn sighed, muffled from all of the pressure he had on his hands. He wanted to be alone. Not wanting to talk anymore.

Then, the door opened. The sounds of heavy boots hit the ground. Shawn raised his head. He knew those sounds better than anyone. He looked at the ground.

"What's going on, Raz?"

"Raz? You know me better than that, Shawn."

Shawn's head twisted to the side fast, able to make out the huge figure that was his friend. He smiled brightly and got up from the chair.

"Diesel!" He cried.

Diesel laughed when he felt Shawn's grip tighten around his body. He hugged him back and quickly looked at Shawn.

"It's great to see you again." Deisel said.

"I've missed you."

"I've missed you, too."

Shawn gave Diesel another hug, he was happy to see him. Happier than what he was. Hunter smiled, seeing Shawn's mood increase from what it had been.

"Well, I should get going." Hunter said, walking towards the two men.

"Nonsense. You can stay, Hunter." Diesel said, smiling as he tried to get away from Shawn's hugs.

"No, really, I should go. We have to get to the next town anyway."

Shawn let Diesel go. "Thanks for everything, Hunter. Even saving my life."

Hunter smiled. "No problem. Nice seeing you again, Diesel."

"You too, Hunter."

As soon as Hunter left the locker room, Shawn smiled and quickly tapped Diesel on the shoulder.

"So," Shawn said. "Why are you back so early? I thought they suspended you for two weeks."

"They let me come back early. Something to do with ratings."

"Oh. Well, I-"

"Shawn," Diesel stopped Shawn from speaking, his face concerned. "I was talking to Razor earlier and he told me some things."

Shawn hung his head, knowing he was in trouble now. "Look, Diesel, I can explain all of that."

"I hope you can. Judging by those scares, I better not ever hear or catch you doing that again. I'm your friend, and I don't want you to hurt yourself anymore. You've done this enough."

"I'm sorry." Shawn said, trying to look up at his friend.

Diesel sighed. "Let's just get out of here, Shawn. We'll talk on the way to the next town."

Shawn nodded, walking over to grab his bag stuffed with his attires and what not and flung it over his shoulder. Razor noticed how Shawn was acting. He didn't seem like himself.

"Did something happen while I was gone?" Diesel asked.

Shawn looked at him after grabbing the title. "I'll tell you on the way to the next town."


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

The empty hall was no surprise to Bret. Its darkness was so thick he couldn't see the edges of this hall he had sat in for over an hour. He had waited here patiently, but now he was irritated beyond composure. Pounding his fist into his aching hand, he looked around the cold edges of the ground, but, like many times before, his eyes were stabbed back with darkness. He grunted impatiently as he waited, wanting to make sure he had some words ready to come out of his mouth. His legs were slouched towards his chest, where he had still been feeling the bruises that Big Daddy Cool had laid upon him, or rather a big daddy wonder pet.

Noises at the end of the hall came from the drops of water seeming in through the ceiling thanks to a thunderstorm. Tonight, Bret was in a mood to set things right. Then, other noises. Bret could hear noises coming towards him, and, lifting his head, attempted to see who was coming, still pounding his fist into his hand.

"What?" He asked, the shadow of someone before him.

"We've got a problem." The Man said, his voice low like others were around.

"There's no need to whisper, Owen. It seems we're the only ones here now."

Owen stood firm, swaying a little on his feet as he attempted to get his brother's face in sight. But the room had other plans, it would say. Owen managed to fumble through his pocket until he came to the small note he had wanted to show his brother for quite some time. He really hadn't had the chance to since he was busy with, well, business. Taking up for his brother when he was absent.

"I was worried they were gonna send you home, bro, but they didn't, did they?"

"No," Bret smirked. "Only Big Daddy weasel."

"He tried to blame it on you," Owen said, the note still in hand. "Here. I've got this."

Bret managed to get the outline of his brother in the darkness. "Leave me. I want to think for awhile."

"But it's important. You need to see this."

"I'll see it later, alright? I don't want to leave here until little Shawn shows up."

Owen sighed, taking back the note from his outstretched hand to his pocket. "I saw him and Diesel when they left. Before that, your posse had Shawn in a bit of a situation, that is, until some guy came and messed it all up. One of them had bleach all over their clothes, and you wouldn't believe that that guy tried to pick a fight with them."

Bret grinned in the darkness. "It seems Shawn's got some company. No matter. He'll be kissing my boots in that ring when we meet again."

Owen attempted to speak, but his mouth couldn't conjure words that either him or his brother could understand. When it came to his brother, Owen knew he was nothing but bad news. Even though, he had to admit, playing with other superstars was the only fun around the industry.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

"Shawn, hurry up in there!" Diesel called from the hotel room.

Shawn grunted as he managed to brush his teeth, spitting out the flavored toothpaste long enough so he couldn't throw up on himself. He managed to get through and rinsed out the brush under the running water in the sink, able to put it back on the counter next to the toothpaste and his hairbrush. Shawn had tried to ignore all types of comments on this day, for today was a very special day to him and no one was going to take that away from him no matter how hard they tried. Cutting off the water, Shawn smiled at himself in the mirror, proud that things were starting to go back to normal again, Diesel being back and all. Still, he had to wonder why Diesel had been a little too protective of him ever since he got back.

Forgetting the idea, Shawn made way towards the door and opened it, the smile never once leaving his face as he entered the hotel room and saw Diesel standing by a table in the far corner. Really, the dining room table. Shawn made way towards the table, Diesel saying earlier he and Shawn were to go somewhere before the next show in Greensboro.

"So," Shawn said, walking over to the table. "What was it you wanted to tell me? About the 'going out' part?"

Diesel lifted an eyebrow. "You sure I said something like that?"

"I'm pretty sure. I wouldn't have woken up this morning happy if I didn't."

Diesel gripped the table with his two hands behind him. He seemed to be smiling, but grinning as if he could blush any minute. Shawn let his head down when he tried to see if Diesel was hiding anything from him, but it didn't seem possible. He was more concerned on what to do today since it was their day off. A day off on the happiest day of his life.

"Did you ever get to talk to Razor?" Shawn asked.

"No. I don't think he's been feeling well lately."

"Oh." Shawn began to walk towards the window of the hotel room, easily frustrated at himself. He was happy, but not being able to see all of his friends was an upset to him, especially not being able to see his parents. He hadn't even talked to them since Wrestlemania. Now, he began to worry if anyone could remember this day.

Then, a voice spoke, loud and happy. "Happy birthday, Shawn!"

Shawn turned around, surprised, and found himself looking at Diesel, a perfectly wrapped box held in his hands. Shawn smiled brightly and quickly walked towards his friend, throwing his arm around him while managing to grab the present.

"You remembered! I can't believe it!" Shawn said.

"Of course I did, Shawn. I wouldn't miss your birthday for the world."

"Ohh, what is it?" Shawn began to open the box, tearing at the purple and red paper, not caring if he was throwing it all over the floor. Diesel laughed and took a step back from Shawn's outbursts.

Shawn managed to open the present's top and peeled away the thin sheets of paper. He then managed to see, in clear view, a pair of long, brown cowboy boots.

"Wow, I needed some more of these!" Shawn yelled, causing Diesel to grin.

"Do you like them?" Diesel asked, already knowing the answer from the way Shawn was acting, his smile brighter than ever.

"Like them? I love them. I've got to try them on." Shawn walked over to a nearby chair and managed to sit down, pulling off the strings holding the two boots together. He slipped one of them on just as the door opened to the room, Razor's wide grin the first thing that Shawn could see, trying to get the boots on correctly.

"I heard it was somebody's birthday today." Razor said, placing a card he had in his hand on the dining table.

"You're in a good mood," Diesel said, smiling. "What's the catch?"

"Come on, it's Shawn's birthday. You only get one once a year."

"Perfect. I love them, Diesel." Shawn said, standing up to let himself adjust to the tightness of the boots.

"Glad you like them. I didn't know what to get you this year."

"Oh, don't worry. I like whatever anyone gets me for my birthday. My two other pairs were worn out."

"That's great."

Razor crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, are we going out or what?"

"What do you mean?" Diesel asked.

"Have you forgotten what we talked about? You know, before you got suspended and all?"

"Oh, yeah," Diesel turned to Shawn, who took his time to get over to the two big men. "Shawn, I'd figure since after all you've been through, we should go out and have fun. What do you say? For old times sake?"

"Where?" Shawn asked, a grin on his face, his eyes on his new boots.

"Oh, um-"

"The club downtown." Razor jumped in, his grin covering his entire face.

Shawn shivered. "I don't know...I don't really drink."

"Who said we were drinking? We're just having fun." Razor said, walking over to Shawn.

"But Raz, the last time I got drunk was when-" Shawn stopped to breathe a second. He looked at the floor. "When Marty and I got jumped."

Razor managed to lift Shawn's head up with his hand. "Come on, it's not that big of a club. It's a little place with one bar and about ten tables."

"I can deal with that," Shawn said, his voice improving. "What about you, Diesel?"

Diesel sighed. "All right, I guess we can go there. But, Razor, you know that we can't drink."

"Like I said," Razor snapped. "Who said we were drinking?"

An hour later, Shawn had managed to find some unique street clothes to fit the occasion. He had found a white button up shirt with blue jeans and, of course, his new cowboy boots. He had managed to brush down his hair right before Diesel and Razor had come back from Razor's hotel room he had shared with Jerry Lawler and managed to get them both to wear something they wouldn't wear to a wrestling arena. Shawn was so happy this day he didn't even think he was himself, however he caught sight of the title on his hotel bed and managed to get a good look in the mirror near him. He had to come to terms that this day wasn't going to last another day. Then, someone knocked on the door. Shawn got up from sitting on the bed and walked out of the room and towards the door, since Razor and Diesel hadn't come out of the bathroom yet.

Shawn wiped off his hands before opening the door, only to see a man on the other side with a green T-shirt and blue jeans sort of resembling Shawn's. Shawn gulped and wanted to back away, since he was alone in the room, but decided to open the door completely for the man.

"Hey," Hunter said, smiling. "I just wanted to come by and check on you since I didn't get the chance to a couple of days ago. After all that had happened."

Shawn limply smiled, looking at the floor a little. "I'm fine now. Still a little sore."

Hunter stepped back from the door, as if he was going to leave, but his eyes narrowed towards the floor. He grinned. "Nice boots."

Shawn grinned. "Thanks. Diesel got them for me for my birthday."

"Oh."

"It's today." Shawn caught himself too late after he said that.

"Oh, I didn't know it was your birthday. I would have-" Hunter stopped, looking up at Shawn, who looked confused. "Well...happy birthday."

"Thanks."

Just as the awkward silence wasn't enough, Shawn turned around to see Diesel standing in the doorway of the bedroom.

"Hunter," Diesel exclaimed. "Come on in. We're just getting ready is all."

Shawn stepped aside and managed to let Hunter into the room, closing the door behind him. Hunter looked around the room as he spoke, "So...what are all of you getting ready for?"

"We're going out to celebrate Shawn's birthday." Diesel said, walking over towards the dining room table.

"Oh, well, I better get going. I don't want to ruin the big day." Hunter started to turn, but Shawn, somehow eager, grabbed his shoulder.

"You don't have to leave now. You can stay here until it's time to leave." He said.

"Or better yet, he can come with us." Diesel said, a smile towards Shawn.

Shawn cringed. He barely even knew Hunter for him to hang out with his friends. He didn't want to hurt the man's feelings, but, then again, he wouldn't know how the man would act. He knew Razor was a wild one at parties, or what Diesel had told him, but how could this guy be any different? Shawn caught himself, realizing his "Special Day" was causing him to be a hypocrite towards someone. Like he was Bret. But he knew he wasn't, just afraid is all. No, more than that. Shy.

"Well, I don't know..." Hunter's voice trailed.

"Shawn, it's your day. Do you think Hunter should come?" Diesel asked. Razor had now made his way out of the bathroom.

Shawn looked at Hunter, who didn't seem to care what anyone said. He looked like he wanted to leave the room.

"Well," Shawn said. "I guess he can come."

"What do you say, Hunter?" Diesel asked.

Hunter looked at Shawn. "I think it'll be cool. Seeing new places and such around here."

"Good." Diesel said, going back into the room and fumbled through his bag until he pulled out a hairbrush and went towards the mirror.

"Terrific." Razor said, but in a sarcastic way.

Shawn looked at the ground, taking in what had happened. "It'll be okay. It'll be okay."

He was really saying it to himself.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

"If I knew it was gonna be this cold, I would have worn a jacket."

Shawn managed to keep his composer as the cold wind whipped through his whole body and into his face, causing him to cough some before he had to keep up with the three men in front of him. Diesel and Razor had made way to the front, while Hunter tagged along behind them, and Shawn basically tagged along behind all three.

"Stop worrying and you'll be fine." Diesel called as he continued walking down the sidewalk.

Shawn wasn't the only one without a jacket on this cold night. He didn't seem to understand how Razor could keep his body temperature warm with a shirt that had no sleeves, exposing his bare shoulders. At least Diesel had long sleeves on, and Hunter had on a red-violet jacket that didn't seem to match his clothes, but, whatever the case, Shawn now had to walk in the freezing cold with short sleeves on, trying not to shudder too much or he would have to remember the bad memories of Bret and his friends all over again. He had already began to accept the fact it happened and move on. It was all there was to it, but Shawn had more time worrying about it than anything in the world.

As the darkness crowded around the town square, Shawn had finally gained enough speed to catch up with the three men in front of him. He smiled a little when he saw Razor point to a small building, with orange lights shining down below the entrance, to the right of the group.

As Diesel managed to open the double doors, he chuckled a little at the sight of the place. It was indeed a little bar, with nothing more than six bar stools and about five tables to sit at if you, in Diesel's opinion, weren't comfortable enough. Razor was the first to enter the bar, a huge grin on his face as he continued to stride down the only aisle to the bar stools, where he sat down and swiveled around to meet the gaze of Shawn and Hunter, who had already made way into the place.

"See, I told you this place wasn't that bad." Razor said, his grin wider.

"Yeah, you sure did," Shawn said, noticing that Diesel was sitting at one of the tables instead of the bar stools. "Diesel, come join us."

Diesel laughed a little. "You know as well as I do I can't fit in one of those small chairs. I'm surprised that even Razor can fit in one."

"Well, you were one to break bar stools back in the day," Razor chuckled. "Shawn, did Big Daddy Cool Diesel ever tell you about the time he broke a bar stool over someone's head?"

Shawn cringed from the thought of it. "No. What happened?"

"Well, this guy had it coming for him, we'll put it that way. This guy thought Diesel was messing with his girl, so he went up and began to punch Diesel. Well, Diesel got sick of the blows that he just grabbed a bar stool and smashed that poor guy's brains in. It was the funniest thing I had ever seen. I was-"

"Um, Raz," Diesel interrupted. "If I remember correctly, that guy who had it coming thought you were messing with his girl. I jumped in to save you."

Razor looked at Diesel a few seconds while Shawn and Hunter both kept silent. Then, Razor laughed and smacked his head in a joyful matter.

"Oh, yeah," He said. "I almost forgot that bit."

As Razor kept laughing, Diesel hung his head a second, then looked back up at Shawn, who had been looking at Diesel and the entire bar at once, his eyes darting across the room. Hunter just kept his head low towards the ground, but he did peer up from time to time. Diesel began to fiddle with his dark brown pants before finally speaking up, "I say it's time we get something to drink."

"Yes, indeed!" Razor yelled.

"Raz," Shawn said, looks of concern on his face. "Are you feeling okay?"

Razor looked at him with a chuckle still on his lips. "Are you kidding? I feel fine. Stop worrying, birthday boy."

Razor turned his head to look at the front counter, seeing that no one was behind it. Shawn managed to look at the ground of the place, it's wooden floors with white scuff marks blinding him a second before being able to blink it away.

"I guess you're right." Shawn whispered.

Shawn twisted in the chair until he met the gaze of Diesel, who was now leaning against the wall, and quickly smiled before he realized Hunter hadn't said much. He looked over, and saw that Hunter was looking up at a television on the far corner, a wrestling show highlighting the screen. Hunter kept his eyes on the screen while Shawn managed to get a close look at the two men fighting in the ring. It really wasn't impressive, being the show was the company's chief rival.

Razor had noticed the actions of Shawn and Hunter. He looked up at the screen and huffed, "WCW's got nothing on us."

"Vince did say something about ratings at the last meeting we had." Hunter said, not once taking his eyes off the screen.

"Yeah, well," Razor said slowly. "Good riddance to them. Bartender!"

Shawn jumped from Razor's outbursts and quickly managed to collect himself, not allowing himself to fall of the stool. It wasn't a day to be clumsy. It was his birthday after all.

Just around the corner, a short white man in a white apron and shirt with black pants walked towards the main bar with a grin on his face. He had a dishrag in one hand and a dish in the other, rubbing it  
slowly.

"Hello, gentlemen," The Bartender said, placing the two objects in hand on the counter. "What'll it be?"

"I'll just have some water." Hunter said, twisting his body around to meet the gaze of the man.

"I'll have one shot of whiskey." Diesel shouted from the table.

Shawn cringed before answering. "I'll have water, too."

Razor laughed. "Wusses. Give me two beers, will ya?"

"What?" Diesel whispered.

"I'll get to that. The water I can make first."

Shawn smiled a little and Hunter shifted positions as he fixed his eyes back on the television. As the Bartender left into the back room, Diesel got up from the table and quickly put his hand on Razor's shoulder and forearm.

"I thought you said we weren't drinking." Diesel said, his voice outraged.

Razor shrugged off Diesel's hand. "I have a headache. Give me a break and sit back down."

Diesel didn't let up on his grip. He felt so angry his hands tightened around Razor's forearm, causing Razor to gasp in pain before finally yanking free.

"I'm picking the place next year," Diesel said. "We better not get another word out of you tonight."

Razor smirked and turned around towards the main bar. Diesel shook his head and stomped back over to the table just as the Bartender came out with the two waters.

"Here you go." He said, handing the glasses to Shawn and Hunter.

"Thanks." Hunter said, twisting his head to grab the glass.

"I'll go on and make the other drinks." The Bartender went off into the back room again, the doors swinging as they shut.

Shawn tried to make use of what had happened between his two friends, but it still wasn't enough to ruin his special day. He sighed and decided to drink some of the water before finally turning back to see the television.

"That guy's got some huge muscles." Hunter commented.

Shawn looked at the figure of a man with a cocky smile and black hair that stayed perfectly on top of his head. He was dressed in all black and was certainly someone who didn't play around.

"What muscles? All that guy needs is a haircut." Razor commented.

Shawn chuckled. "When are you getting one, Raz?"

"Yesterday," Razor said, causing Shawn to look down some. "How about you?"

"Raz-" Diesel began.

"Oh...never." Shawn said, looking into Razor's eyes. By this time the Bartender had handed Razor his two beers.

"Sure," Razor gulped a few sips out of one bottle. "I'll be waiting' for you at the barbershop."

Shawn laughed a little. "That would be impossible."

Razor looked towards the other man next to Shawn. "What about you, new guy?"

Hunter looked at Razor with a smile. "I think the only thing that needs to be cleaned up is your attitude."

Diesel looked on, his body tense from all of the comments being thrown out, ready for a big fight to happen. After all, he was one to stop fighting than keep on fighting.

A few hours passed as Diesel had managed to finish his small shot of whiskey and decided to order some water for the time being. Shawn and Hunter had their eyes on the wrestling show the whole time, not saying a word to one another and keeping eye contact away from Razor, who had now slugged his way over to a nearby table and had already ordered two new bottles of beer to go with the four he's already drunk down. Diesel eyed Razor and shook his head at all of the beer bottles flipped sideways on the table, some leftover liquid dripping out of the bottles and onto the floor.

As the wrestling show was now over, Shawn had managed to sit normally against the main bar, wanting to be alone for the time being. He had finished his water hours ago, and decided it was time to leave. He glanced over at Hunter, who hadn't barely touched his water and was, like Shawn, sitting normally with his head resting on his arms.

Shawn decided to speak. "Are you okay?"

Hunter looked up from the sudden outburst of words. "I'm fine. You?"

"I'm good," Shawn laughed. "Not drunk."

Hunter laughed and lifted his head up, easily looking at Razor in the corner of the room. Shawn looked back at what Hunter was looking at and frowned.

"Oh." Shawn whispered.

"Mmm-Hmm. But he is." Hunter said, pointing at Razor.

Diesel had looked up from the table he was at and decided to go over to Razor. Standing up, he stretched his legs before finally walking over to Razor, his body slumped over in the seat of the table, his breathing almost slim to none. His mouth was hung open a little, as if he was going to sip some more beer. Diesel shook Razor's shoulder, which caused a grunt from the man, and frowned.

"Razor, Razor, get up," Diesel said. "I think it's time we head back to the hotel."

Razor sat up at the table with a huge exhale of breath. Diesel covered his nose a second before letting his hand back down, getting a short laugh from Razor.

"You're drunk, Raz," Diesel said, his frown turned into anger. "I can't believe you! You said we weren't drinking and you did it anyway! How could you get drunk on Shawn's birthday?!"

Razor lifted a finger towards the sky in his drunken state, a smirk on his lips. "I...got...more...money."

"Forget about paying the man. I'll pay. Let's just go." Diesel grabbed Razor's arm and pulled on it, but Razor gripped the railing of the seat and remained seated.

"I'm not...going...anywhere. Me...stay...here. Shawn. Hunter."

"I'm not staying either, Raz." Shawn said, getting out of the stool, concern on his face. He walked over to the drunk man and quickly got hair out of Razor's eyes and mouth, seeing that his face was slurred and his smirks were almost frowns. "Come on, Raz, let's go."

Razor shoved away the two men and, continuing to grip the railing, said, "Make me. I...not...leaving."

Hunter got up and quickly looked at the two men as they were looking at him. They all had the same idea. Diesel, Shawn, and Hunter quickly grabbed Razor and tried to pull him out of the seat. Razor's drunken state was indeed slurred as he grunted in all of the pulling and pushing happening. He somehow had a lot of strength for being as drunk as he was.

Razor, in an instant, got up with a full force of his body and pushed Diesel roughly onto the table, pulling down pictures on the walls with the force, slapping him a few times for good measure. Shawn managed to grab Razor's shoulder and pull back on the strong and drunk man.

"Raz! Stop! Stop! Raz, stop!"

Razor turned around and, in a blinding impact, punched Shawn right in the jaw and knocked him onto the wooden floor, his head bouncing back as the impact occurred. Hunter managed to punch Razor a few times before he too was punched by Razor, but this time in the face. Razor went to grunting again as he chuckled at the three bodies sprawled out near him, the Bartender just happening to be the only witness around, cowering behind the counter in an effort to dodge to the phone if he could.

Diesel got up from the table and, with quick thinking, grabbed a bar stool and, with a full force, knocked it against Razor's head, watching as Razor fell to the ground with a huge impact on top of Shawn.

"Raz...get...off me." Shawn struggled, holding his head as he attempted to push the big man off of him.

Diesel let the broken bar stool fall and walked over and picked Razor up, his strength still present, and quickly put his arm around his shoulders. Diesel used his other hand to fumble through his pocket, easily able to take out his wallet and dump at least two ten dollar bills on the floor.

"Give that to the man, Shawn." Diesel said as he walked slowly to shift his weight to support Razor's.

Shawn nodded slowly as he sat up, his head spinning from what had happened. He looked over and saw Hunter on the other side of the room, his hand covering his face in pain. Shawn slowly got up and used the same railing for balance, then walked over to Hunter and quickly stood over him.

"You okay?" Shawn asked, slow in speech and out of breath.

"Yeah," Hunter said, extending his hand to reach anything near him. "Yeah, I'm okay."

Shawn took Hunter's hand and quickly got him on his feet, the same way they had met. Shawn touched his jaw and felt a stinging sensation as he winced. Hunter uncovered his face to reveal a black eye already beginning to swell. Shawn frowned and managed to get the dollar bills off of the floor, slowly walking over to the counter and placed the bills on the counter. The Bartender slowly rose up from his state and took them while Shawn placed a one dollar bill on the counter.

"Can I have some coffee, please?" He asked.

"S-Sure thing." The Bartender took the dollar bill and placed all of the money in his pocket as he hurried back to the back room.

Shawn sighed and felt more pain on his body now, his back aching and his head beginning to pound. He looked behind him and saw Hunter's back turned as he entered the bathroom. Shawn frowned and turned back around, his eyes trying hard not to mist with tears.

Just around the corner, Owen was looking at all of the necklaces in the small shop while his friends had been reading magazines over in the corners of the room. Among them was his brother, reading a magazine that featured the Wrestlemania highlights. Owen turned his attention back towards the blue and red necklaces, not wanting any trouble from his brother, since he had failed to still give that letter to him and all, or rather Bret had failed to take it.

Bret laughed a little when his eyes caught sight of the Iron Man match that he and Shawn had wrestled in for quite some time, his eyes furious when he read the caption of, "Shawn Michaels: The Boyhood Dream Comes True!"

Bret huffed and flipped the page, the pictures of the match easily distracting him from his friends murmuring to each other about their findings.

"Bret? Hey, Bret?" The Main Man looked up over the magazine and smiled.

Bret continued looking at the magazine, this time he was reading the words on the page. He grinned when he read the paragraph that talked about him and Shawn beating breaking each other in half, a basic term for beating the living hell out of each other.

"Bret?" The Main Man continued calling.

Bret peered up from the magazine. "What?"

"Take a break from that trash and look at this," The Main Man shoved the magazine on top of the other, pointing towards the page. "A boy captured a UFO!"

"All of those stories are fake," Bret sneered, pushing away the magazine while still holding the old one. "Just like these sentences right here on this page. I don't ever recall a single chair shot to my head. Those editors need a better writing style."

Owen heard his brother and grinned. "You wouldn't have seen a chair shot coming."

Bret scowled and put down the magazine, his eyes already strained from the tough day working out. He put the magazine back on the table and quickly walked over towards the vases in the window. He wasn't a big fan of them, but it seemed alright for now. He then managed to catch some skull and crossbones cups and decided to inspect them, impressed. Owen walked slowly to his brother and twisted his head to look out the main window. What he saw made him shudder.

"Oh...um..." Owen shuddered.

"What?" Bret asked, looking at him.

"Nothing, bro. Let's look at-"

Bret shoved past Owen, as he was coming close to him, and made way to see what his brother was looking at. He grinned when recognized that long, flowing, semi-blondish hair and that thin and ugly face that was his arch-enemy.

"Well, well, well," Bret sneered. "I love a good challenge on a night in the town."

Bret opened the door to the shop, the bells in the far corner jingling, and made way towards the sidewalk just as his friends followed him out the door, managing to get the magazines onto the correct table before joining Bret. Owen noticed his brother's actions and ran out of the shop, carefully dodging the glass picture frames.

"Bret! Bret!"

Owen had finally made it out onto the sidewalk, but quickly saw that his brother was in short distance of the small bar that Shawn was sitting in near the window. He breathed heavily and cupped his hand to his mouth.

"Bret, he's not worth it!"

Bret grinned as he made way towards the small place and, once he was in front of the large window, quickly pounded his fist against the glass, seeing that Shawn wasn't responding.

"Hey, Boytoy!"

Shawn heard the pounding of the glass and the shouts, but didn't really care at this point, looking at the damage of the broken stool in front of him as well as the leaning and broken pictures of couples dancing and beer bottles.

"Boytoy!"

Shawn sighed, the reality setting in as he realized Bret had found him. He looked down at his coffee, seeing he hadn't even took a sip. But now would have been a good time. After all, his birthday was a day of celebration.

"Hey, loser! Your mama pick out them clothes for you?! I bet she bought them, too!"

Shawn sipped his coffee and smiled a little, wondering if he should call his parents or not. At least he had to thank Bret for the thought. He began to hear laughs coming from outside, and slowly making its way towards his ears. Before he knew it, a fist landed in the corner of the table, shaking it from the force of the hit. Shawn noticed the fist wasn't alone, for it was almost covered by solid black leather with pink edged in the center.

"Showstopper," Bret grinned. "I know you can hear me. I know you still have a good ear left after all of the ruckus you caused us in the boiler room."

Shawn smiled a little, continuing to look at his coffee. "You did put me in the hospital."

Bret's grin widened. "Well...sorry we had to be so rough on you, but, hey, we were just playing around. You understand that right?"

Shawn looked up and over towards the window, where he saw the members of the Hart Foundation standing shoulder to shoulder grinning and laughing while managing to bare the cold weather.

"Look's like your friends have abandoned you." Shawn said, a grin on his face turning into a short  
chuckle.

Bret's fist tightened as he watched Shawn begin to raise his drink. He wanted to talk some more, but instead looked down and laughed.

"What?" Shawn asked, deadpan while bringing the coffee to his lips.

"Nothing. It's just that-" Bret began.

As Shawn listened closely, he began to grin again. But, suddenly, that grin turned into a scream of horror when the burning hot sensation of the coffee hit his entire face and dripping down his white shirt and matted his hair. Shawn began to wipe his eyes, but Bret grabbed Shawn from the front of his shirt collar and quickly spitted right between his eyes. He loosened his grip and watched how Shawn was trying to wipe off his eyes and face, a grin coming to his own.

"My friends...would never leave me," Bret grabbed one of Shawn's fists and forced Shawn to look into his eyes, Shawn already able to see out of them. "And you know your friends would. Just wait and see."

Shawn tried to yank back from Bret's hold, but, looking into Bret's eyes, he said, "You don't know anything about me and my friends."

"Oh, I know-"

"What's going on here?" A voice called.

Shawn looked over, as well as Bret, and saw Hunter standing in the doorway of the hall leading towards the bathroom. Bret loosened his grip on Shawn's wrist and Shawn grunted when he felt his head bounce off the headboard of the table.

"Nothing, loser," Bret sneered. "Just talking to my good ol' friend is all."

"Your friend? Who'd really want to be friends with you?" Hunter glared, staring at the scene before him.

"You've got a lot of nerve to-"

"You know what? If you and punky bruster, celery stick, and the fat boy wants to come play, you come right ahead, because I'm not gonna stand here and let you get away with something like this. You think picking on him is gonna get you somewhere. No. It doesn't work that way, you freak of nature."

Just around the corner of the bar, the owner walked in from the kitchen and stopped dead in his tracks when he saw what was happening. He instead began to clean some of the dishes on the table.

Bret saw the owner and slowly walked backwards, getting a quick glance at his friends before finally smirking and, with his finger pointed, said, "We'll see who's the better man one day, loser."

Hunter chuckled as he saw Bret exit the bar, signaling his friends to join him and Owen, who had been standing across the street the whole time, raced down the street to join them.

The owner looked up from the dishes. "Should I call the Police?"

Shawn sighed and tried to look around for something to wipe off his face. Hunter sighed himself and walked over to the bar's counter.

"Do you have any washcloths we can borrow?"

The owner handed Hunter a clean dishrag without any trouble, and Hunter walked over to Shawn and extended his hand with the object.

"Here." He said.

Shawn took the washcloth and wiped off the remaining bits of coffee and spit that Bret had spilled on him. He breathed deeply and stood up, touching the back of his head, making sure he wasn't bleeding.

"I'm sorry this had to happen." Hunter said, his hand now resting on Shawn's shoulder.

Shawn shook off the hand and threw the washcloth down on the table, huffing as he stormed out the doorway of the bar, pushing open the door so far he thought he heard the glass crack. He didn't once look back as he managed to get his eyes focused in the darkness ahead. He saw the many streetlights, but they were no help. He thought he could hear voices, but he wanted to be left alone. He really just wanted to be in his own world now.

As the cold air ripped through his body, Shawn sighed as he attempted to walk fast down the sidewalk, trying to get away from the bar and that guy. He couldn't help but think about what Diesel could be doing right now. Only Shawn would know that Diesel can fight back if Razor tried to pick another fight with him. Fighting was something Shawn had known all too well about, inside the ring or not. He had never really had friend's who could fight as well outside the ring, but knew his old friend was still out there. He started to remember his old friend at that moment:

_Shawn had been watching his friend pace the room while grabbing various clothes, shoes, and hairspray among other things and throwing it into his bag. As the room was engulfed in angry huffs and loud crashes of clothing onto the bag and bed frame, Shawn looked at the floor when he saw that his friend had dropped an item that was too precious to throw away._

_"Marty,"_ _Shawn called, looking at his friend. "Why are you doing this?"_

_"I can't take it anymore," Marty threw his black jacket into his bag forcefully. "I just can't do this."_

_Shawn sighed, the item still in hand. He looked at it. "You wouldn't forget this, would you?"_

_Marty looked over at Shawn, who had now risen his so-called lucky charm in plain sight of his eyes. He looked at it, but only scowled and continued ripping at the dresser as he gathered all of his supplies, not caring for the sake of the hotel furniture at the moment._

_Shawn lowered the bracelet and clutched it in his hand._ _He realized he was still looking at it, long enough he didn't see Marty walk past him and into the living room, where he had managed to get some of the food off of the table that all the wrestlers had managed to order. He wrapped it in a paper towel and quickly stuffed it in_ _his bag. Shawn walked up behind Marty and placed a hand on his shoulder._

_"What happened? Why are you doing this?" He asked, worry already seeping onto his face._

_Marty turned around to look at Shawn. "Maybe one day...one day...they'll see that I was a figure in this business. But for now I'm not even concerned one bit about this job. I can't take the pain anymore, Shawn. I've already been beaten in that locker room, and you know-"_

_"Marty," Shawn interrupted. "I know what happened to you, but you can't blame this on the company. Don't leave. You're the only guy who can stand with me, storyline or not."_

_Marty looked down, but soon pushed his way past Shawn and quickly adjusted the bag over his shoulder. Shawn managed to see nothing at this point, but only the back of Marty's head as he opened the hotel room's door._

_"I'd get out while you can, Shawn. You can keep that stupid lucky charm." Marty called._

_Shawn unclenched his hand and looked at the bracelet as the door slammed shut, the sounds echoing throughout the room and causing the dining room table to shake behind him. Shawn's long hair fluttered into his face as he kept staring at the charm, realizing his friend, or rather his teammate, was gone. All because of the taunts and teases._

"Shawn! Shawn!"

The voices caused Shawn to snap out of his thoughts and quickly turned his head. Hunter came running down the sidewalk and quickly caught Shawn by the arm. Shawn grunted and shrugged off the touch.

"What's wrong with you?" Hunter asked, his voice loud.

"What's wrong with me? Oh, I don't know. It's everything, okay?!"

"It's because of Razor isn't it? And Bret? You shouldn't worry about them so much."

Shawn tensed up, his hands balled into fists. "Now you're really sounding like Razor."

"Well, I'm not him. And I'm not drunk either."

"Me neither!"

Hunter paused a second as Shawn looked around the area, none of it really mattering to him. Hunter put his hand back on Shawn's shoulder and quickly sighed, "Let's just get back to the hotel. It's really late."

Shawn sighed himself. He shrugged off the touch again, but gently. "Okay."

Hunter noticed how Shawn was beginning to shake as the wind picked up a little speed. Shawn began to walk away, but Hunter quickly took off his jacket and threw it over Shawn's shoulders.

"Here." Hunter said.

Shawn took the jacket and looked at it. He then sighed and put it on, adjusting it over his shoulders to feel comfortable.

"Come on, let's go." Hunter said, the cold wind now whipping at him.

"Aren't you cold?" Shawn asked, walking down the sidewalk with Hunter.

"Yes, but you need it more than I do."

Sometime later, Shawn had managed to pull out his key card and quickly open the hotel door, allowing himself to go in as Hunter trailed behind. Shawn flipped the lights on and quickly stepped into the bedroom, where he fumbled through a supply closet. Hunter stood in the doorway as he watched Shawn do this.

"What are you looking for?" Hunter asked.

"A first-aid kit."

Hunter sighed. "Don't worry about it. Is it okay if I go clean my eye in the bathroom?"

Shawn stopped looking through the closet. "I guess so."

Hunter smiled limply and quickly dodged a black bag as he managed to get into the bathroom. Shawn sighed and sat down on one of the two beds in the room, his head cupped in his hands as he rubbed his face from the aching feeling. He then got up and paced the room, sighing as he attempted to find a way to cure himself of the aches and pains he was feeling. He looked at his shirt, coffee stains all over it, and quickly managed to let it go, not wanting to think about the night. He walked into the living room and cut off the lights, now standing alone in the pitch black. He soon adjusted to the darkness and quickly looked around the room. Nothing of interest caught his eye until he saw a little red card staring at him on the dining table. Confused, Shawn picked up the card and quickly pulled up a chair from under him and sat in it. He managed to flip open the unsealed seal and quickly took out the object within it. It was the same shape as the envelope and was entranced with pictures of balloons and a message that said, "Happy Birthday!"

Shawn opened the card and, before he could read the inside, a few objects came flying out of the card and onto his lap. Shawn looked down and picked up the objects, examining it in his hands before realizing the object was two dollar bills. Examining closer, the dollar bills read One-Hundred at the top. Shawn's jaw almost dropped, for he had never really seen a hundred dollar bill before. He had heard of them, but never touched one. He paused his thoughts a second before realizing that the pay of the company wouldn't allow one hundred dollar bills. Not in Shawn's paycheck at least. He pondered a second and looked at the two dollar bills closer.

"Where did Razor get this money?" Shawn thought aloud.

Forgetting the question, Shawn placed the two dollar bills back in the card and put the card back in the envelope just as Hunter had strolled out of the bathroom, his grunts of pain loud as he applied an object to his eye.

"Can you cut the lights back on?" Hunter asked, wincing.

"Oh, sorry," Shawn said, walking over to the wall and flipped the switch. "I felt tired."

"Don't worry about it." Hunter pressed the washcloth to his swollen eye and winced again.

Shawn frowned as he kept the card in hand. "Razor got you good."

Hunter chuckled. "Yeah...he did."

Shawn went back into the bedroom and placed the card beside his bed, taking off his new cowboy boots for the night. Hunter stood in the doorway and winced again.

"I'm gonna go..." Hunter's voice trailed.

Shawn looked up after just getting his boots off. "Okay."

"Goodnight, Shawn."

Shawn looked up, confused. "Uh...goodnight."

Hunter smiled a little and made his way past the living room and to the doorway, where he left the hotel room. Shawn sighed and laid back on his bed, not caring if it was cold in the hotel. He began to remember all that had happened, and had now realized his birthday was indeed ruined. He had tears to prove it.

"Happy birthday to me." Shawn whispered as tears rolled down the sides of his face.


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Shawn caught his breath as he managed to roll off of his opponent as the crowd went wild around the arena. As the Referee began to get the ten count up to five, Shawn grinned and saw, from the corner of his eye, the 1-2-3 Kid grabbing the ropes as he was breathing heavy in and out of his mouth. He had manged to get a belly to belly suplex on Shawn, when Shawn had come off the ropes, and collapsed on the ring mat with him.

The crowd kept cheering, some just standing and glaring, and Shawn kept a grin on his face as he used his body weight to pull himself up in the ring using the force of his legs kicked into the air and, within a few seconds, he was standing straight up in the ring, catching his breath, and managing to smile a little before turning his attention back to his opponent. He walked over to the 1-2-3 Kid and quickly pulled him up by his hair and landed a few shots to the head, but the Kid managed to land some blows into Shawn's stomach, causing Shawn to groan but managed to keep his grip on the Kid's hair and punched him in the chest. The Kid doubled over and Shawn managed to regain the rest of his breath before he found himself in the midst of a wonderful crowd cheering him on in Greensboro.

He walked over to the corner of the ring and began to feel momentum in his veins as his blood began to boil when he stomped his foot down onto the mat, followed by more stomps until he could see the Kid get close to his feet. He began to hear the crowd roar as he began to press forward and quickly connected his boot to the Kid's jaw. The crowd began cheering and Shawn went for the pin. The Referee counted to three and the bell rang. Shawn jumped to his feet, out of breath from his finisher, and his hand was raised by the Referee. He smiled brightly at all of the people cheering him, and he happened to glance over at the side of the ring where the Kid was being checked on by an official outside. Shawn felt a tap on his shoulder and turned around, seeing the outstretched hand of the Referee holding the championship. Shawn frowned a little and took it. He had almost forgot about the championship in times like this. When he felt that he was finally becoming someone without having to prove himself. Truth was, he couldn't help but prove himself. Shawn looked over and saw Jose standing in the ring with him, hugging him and exiting the ring before the next match was set to start.

Once Shawn and Jose got backstage, Shawn could hear the groans of the Kid as the official continued to help him into one of the halls towards the Doctor's office. Shawn frowned and quickly felt a hand on his shoulder. He smiled a little as Jose grinned at him.

"He'll be fine." Jose said, tapping Shawn's shoulder before letting it back at his side.

"I hope so. I didn't mean to kick him that hard." Shawn laughed, but continued to feel a bit concerned.

"Don't worry about it, Shawn."

Shawn smiled and adjusted the title on his shoulder, beginning to take steps towards the locker room.

"Shawn!"

Shawn spun around from Jose's voice. "Yes?"

"I need to talk to you."

Jose began to walk in the opposite direction of the hallway. Shawn sighed and followed him, his body beginning to ache and hurt from the the match he just had, beads of sweat still pouring down his chest. Shawn kept his distance from Jose as he saw his trainer walking into the unknown of the hallway, something Shawn wasn't very fond of. He would usually just go to the locker room after a match, not walk around where others could have been waiting.

Jose found the spot where he wanted to talk to Shawn at and sat down on a large steel container, saving room for Shawn. He noticed the look in Shawn's eyes when he stopped cold in the hall and looked sad at the steel containers before him.

"Please sit, Shawn. We need to talk."

Shawn sighed and managed to walk over to the containers, easing the stress on his body as he sat down, wiping sweat off his face. He shook the title off his shoulder and placed it in his hands close to his lap. Jose cleared his throat after holding his hand to his chest a few times, his face full of pain.

"Jose...are you okay?" Shawn asked, his hand on his manager's shoulder.

Jose coughed a few times while attempting to nod his head. When he managed to stop, he said, "Yes, I'm fine."

Shawn looked down at the floor, knowing Jose was about to give him one of his "talks." He really didn't want to be bothered right now. He just wanted to go back to his locker room and get out of the arena before he had to endure more pain if anyone else was around.

"Shawn," Jose began. "Ever since I started training you, you became the best student I've ever seen. You overcame all the odds to become champion, and I'm very, very proud of you."

Shawn smiled a little, his eyes fixed on the title, the words soothing his troubled mind. "Thanks."

"But that's not all you accomplished. You followed your dream to be a wrestler. I...Shawn," Jose put his hand on Shawn's shoulder, causing Shawn to look at him. "I am very proud of you. Your parents are proud of you. Everyone is proud of you."

Shawn chuckled a little, causing Jose to look at him questionably.

"What is it?" Jose asked.

"Nothing," Shawn caught himself, wiping his eyes so Jose couldn't see what he felt on his fingertips. "Nothing. I'm fine."

Jose frowned. "Shawn...we never got to continue our conversation on what happened to you in the boiler room that one night. It should be-"

"Jose," Shawn stopped wiping his eyes and looked at Jose with a smirk on his lips. "That was a month ago. I'm fine now."

"Yes, but-"

"Don't worry about it, Jose. That's what you say to me, so why don't I say it to you? Okay?"

"Shawn...I...How could you keep your emotions hidden from me?"

"What are you talking about?"

"Those tears in your eyes a few seconds ago. What happened to you that night still hurts you, doesn't it?"

Shawn looked down and at the title again, his hands almost tightened into fists. He felt something come up his throat, and, without warning, it came out of his mouth with a rough force. He suddenly noticed tears had been streaking down his face. Why was he like this? He didn't know the answer. All he could do was cry.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...Jose...I..."

Jose wrapped his arm around Shawn and quickly placed Shawn's head on his shoulder, letting the man sob into his own.

"It's okay, Shawn. It still hurts. I know it does."

Shawn's sobs began to hurt his throat. He had managed to stop and sniffle a few times before letting his tears come back, the sobs managing through.

"I'm sorry, Jose." Shawn sobbed.

"I know. I know, son, it's okay."

Jose sighed as his student was crying against him. A thing that had only happened a couple of times before, just not like this. He had seen Shawn cry the night he won the championship. Of course, those were tears of happiness, but now that happiness was long gone. Jose could tell that.

"Shawn," Jose whispered. "Who was in the boiler room that night?"

Shawn sniffled, his sobs gone but his tears remained. He took his head off Jose's shoulder to breath through his mouth. He looked at the ground as he caught, from the corner of his eye, Jose inspecting his now tear-stained shirt.

"Please...don't..."

"Shawn. Tell me. Please."

"No."

"Why not?"

"I said no!"

Shawn pounced off of the steel container and quickly felt his blood boil. His face was hot and his heart was pounding in his chest. Something in him was about to snap.

"Shawn-"

"I said no, Jose! Don't you know what that means? I've wasted my time sitting here with you and all you do is nag and brag about me! I'm sick of it! I want to be left alone in my locker room! Not out here in the wide open where the other entertainers can come up and slap me one by one because that's what they've done in the past! Now, please just leave me alone!"

Shawn stomped off in a hurry, his hands clutching the sides of the title as his fingernails were lightly felt against his palms. His feet felt heavy as he walked towards the locker room, his hand desperately wiping off the leftover tears he had shed before letting his anger out on his own manager. Shawn continued looking at the ground, not caring if he had passed a couple of trainers who wanted to tell him about next week's show. He felt his heart pound harder when he managed to find the locker rooms, looking out for his that he was sharing with Diesel and Hunter. Razor was sharing a locker with Psycho Sid and the 1-2-3 Kid since Diesel had already chose Hunter as the third man for the room.

He managed to find his locker room and quickly opened the door, slamming it behind him as he continued to huff about, his breath becoming heavier and heavier by the minute. He wanted to cry, but no tears would come out of his already dried eyes. He let the title slip onto the floor and paced around the room a few minutes, walking back and forth as he breathed deeply to ease his mind, but it didn't seem to work.

Shawn looked around the place for one thing. Anything. Anything that would ease him.

He walked towards Hunter's locker and tried to pry it open, but the lock on it wouldn't budge. Shawn pounded his fist against the locker, but it didn't stop him from trying to open the locker. He wanted to see what this man could have been hiding. Shawn stopped a second to catch his breath, his grip on the locker's handle tight, and felt his fist begin to burn. Loosening his grip, Shawn walked over to Diesel's bag and quickly threw out all of the clothes and what not onto the floor. He managed to reach the bottom of the bag, where nothing was there except, well, nothing. Shawn got up with a yell on his lips and quickly punched the wall next to the bench and weight machine.

He quickly descended into the bathroom, where he threw all of the drawers out onto the hard wood floor and screamed at the top of his lungs in the middle of the place. He felt sobs on his lips and felt tears streaking down his face. He hadn't been able to find peace in himself, and it only made him even angrier. He clutched his hands around his body and quickly found himself rocking back and forth on the floor, hitting his head against the wall nearby. He didn't care at this point. All he wanted was ease.

* * *

"Shawn? Shawn? Wake up."

A voice came out of nowhere as Shawn kept his eyes closed, tears stuck on his face, his back touching the hard floor. He felt hands from another shaking him, giving him no time to ease his body but to open his eyes completely in one glance towards the voice. Shawn looked up a little from the figure crouched over him and suddenly recognized that blond and gorgeous hair, along with those sweet and soft eyes and the touch of the figure's hand made Shawn feel much assured.

At the same time, however, Shawn felt so confused.

"Sunny?"


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

"Sunny?"

Shawn tried to shake his head. At least close his eyes. He couldn't believe it. _She _was in front of him. He couldn't even talk anymore, her appearance as beautiful as the moment he first saw her...

**1994**

_"Shawn. Shawn. Check this, bud."_

_Razor had been showing off his skills in the only profession he found suitable after a good wrestling_ _match: drinking shots._

_Shawn watched helplessly but thrilled to see Razor put an entire shot bottle on the tips of his mouth_ _and throw his head back as the brown liquid poured down his throat. As many superstars watching on_ _cheered a little around the three friends, Shawn and Diesel exchanged looks of surprise when Razor_ _began to drink yet another shot._

_"Razor, Razor," Diesel said, putting his hands on his friend's shoulders to stop him. Razor turned to_ _face him, his face full of smiles. "You've had enough for one night, don't you think?"_

_Razor laughed in his friend's face a little and looked at Shawn, who cracked a small smile. "Can you_ _believe this guy?"_

_Shawn continued to smile, but felt guilty as he allowed Razor to drink another shot, repeating the same pattern he had done with the other ten glasses he had thrown down along with a bottle of wine and two beers. He looked over at all of the __alcohol and decided to put his hand on Razor's shoulder once Razor had gotten through with the last shot he had, the cheers of the superstars eased as they continued on with their conversations._

_"Razor," Shawn said. "Diesel has a point. You shouldn't keep pouring that stuff down your throat."_

_"Exactly," Diesel pointed at Shawn while managing to keep Razor balanced. "We should get back to the hotel. We've got a big show tomorrow."_

_"No...I...want...to...stay." Razor managed to say in his drunken state, placing the eleventh shot with the others._

_Shawn covered his nose from Razor's breath coming in his direction. He looked up at Diesel, who looked just as concerned as Shawn. Diesel let Razor's arm go, and Razor, somehow, managed to grab onto the bench of the booth they were sitting at and sat down. He placed his head on his arms on the table and quickly shot Shawn a grin. Shawn uncovered his nose and smiled a little back, worried at the same time._

_"I want...to be called...'Raz' from...now on, kid. Got it?"_

_Shawn grew confused. "Why?"_

_"Because...I want a classy name."_

_Diesel looked at Shawn. "He's drunk. Don't listen to him."_

_"No...no...really." Razor said, laughing a little at Diesel._

_"Whatever." Diesel said, his hands gripping the side of the bar._

_"Why don't you sit with us, Diesel?" Shawn asked._

_"I don't think so. Not around him." Diesel shot a look at Razor, then managed to drink some of the wine he had bought._

_Shawn laughed and quickly let it go. He decided to keep quiet, that is, until Razor's head shot up and a grin entranced his face in Shawn's direction._

_Shawn looked behind him, then back at Razor. "What?"_

_Razor's grin deepened. "Look...at...them."_

_Shawn looked behind him again. He didn't see anything except for random superstars talking and laughing around the place. The music around the bar got a little louder as the manager was trying to a fight from happening over in the corner between two strangers. Then, Shawn saw something._

_On the other side of the bar, past the talking superstars, three girls were sitting at a table. One had dark brown hair and big hands, the other had black hair and tattoos all over her right arm, and the last one had beautiful blond hair and big green eyes. They were all talking and laughing. The blond threw her head back and laughed at all that had been said by her companions._

_Shawn turned back around, Razor giving him a huge smile._

_"You saw them, too?" Razor pointed at them._

_"Yes, stop pointing." Shawn let his head come down and just looked at the table covered in lights from the ceiling up above._

_"I...make...challenge."_

_"Raz-" Diesel began._

_"No...no...what...you say...kid?"_

_Shawn gulped, looking at Razor. "What challenge?"_

_"Who can get the most girls, I'm sure." Diesel said._

_"Yep." Razor called, a grin on his face, lifting his body and stumbling to stand straight._

_"Razor, you should sit down."_

_"No, Diesel, I'm...going. It's...Raz...now."_

_Razor stumbled across the room and over to where the girls' table was, the girls stopping their conversation completely and looking at him with confused and disgusted looks._

_"Hey...ladies..."_

_The girls giggled and continued talking, ignoring the blank stare Razor was giving. Razor huffed and stumbled back towards the booth Shawn and Diesel were looking at him from afar._

_Once Razor got back to the booth, Diesel clapped his hands together teasingly. Razor shoved Diesel's hands away from his face and quickly found a way to sit back down. The whole time, Shawn had been shaking. He really didn't think this was a good idea._

_"Your...turn..."_

_"Shawn, no. Don't do it." Diesel warned._

_"Do it." Razor whispered._

_Shawn looked and the two guys he called his friends. He really didn't think it was a good idea but, at the same time, he wished he could find a way to agree to the challenge._

_"Come on...kid...don't be a wuss."_

_Razor's comment was the last straw. Shawn got up from the table and quickly got away from the two friends, one cheering him on and one trying to bring him back._

_"Go get 'em!" Razor yelled._

_"Shawn!" Diesel yelled._

_Shawn ignored the two and quickly walked across the room, his heart thumping in his chest as he approached closer to the three girls. Once he had found himself a foot from the table, he looked back at the two looking at him from afar. Razor gave Shawn a thumbs up in his drunken state as Diesel looked concerned. Shawn turned back towards the table and sighed, breathing deep once he could feel his feet move across the room again towards the table._

_Before he knew it, the three girls were looking at him from their seats. Shawn noticed he was at the table, his hands shaking as his head was spinning. His heart pounding. The girls smiled at him, the blond one the most, and Shawn felt like he was being watched by everyone. Like he was the only man brave enough to do this._

_"Uh..."_

_Shawn couldn't find the words to speak. He felt his face get hot and his hands shake and sweat. _

_Shawn gulped. "Hi."_

_Shawn looked at the three girls, who smiled brighter, and, without thinking, he spun around on his heel and quickly walked back to the booth. Shawn could hear the laughs of the girls as he walked away, feeling his face getting hotter. He felt horrible, now realizing he just made a fool out of himself. The laughs seemed to grow louder as he found the booth and sat down._

_"Poor thing." One girl said._

_"What was he thinking?" The other said._

_"Yeah." The last said._

_Shawn looked at the table as he managed to sigh and hope the hot feeling on his face would go away. He looked up and saw Razor and Diesel looking at him, both seemed a bit concerned._

_Then, Razor grinned. "He shoots...he...scores."_

_Razor's face hit the table, his body limp. He continued breathing, but his eyes were closed. Diesel sighed and walked over to Razor and grabbed his arm._

_"I'm going back to the hotel. Are you coming?" Diesel said, placing Razor's arm over his shoulders and balancing him._

_Shawn looked a Diesel, shaking his head with a weak smile._

_"Okay..." Diesel said, a little uneasy, leading himself and a drunk Razor towards the front door of the club._

_Shawn looked at the table and realized he was alone. He suddenly felt better. He liked it this way._

_An hour later, Shawn managed to drink the rest of the water and quickly rub his eyes before noticing the entire place had been deserted except for a few superstars and a couple of people around town. Slow dance music was playing and Shawn began to listen to it, liking the rhythm. He closed his eyes, swaying his head to the small beats of music. _

_Then, he felt a tap on his shoulder.  
_

_He opened his eyes instantly and saw the blond woman in front of him, smiling brightly. Shawn smiled a little and felt his face get hot as it did earlier when he tried to talk to this woman and her friends._

_"Hi." She said._

_Shawn gulped. "Hi."_

_"I noticed your alone. I thought maybe..."_

_Shawn waited for her to finish, but her voice trailed. The woman smiled and extended her hand._

_"I'm Sunny."_

_Shawn looked at her hand and, slowly, lifted his and shook her hand. It was soft at the touch._

_"Shawn."_

_"Shawn? Oh, your Shawn Michaels. You may not recognize me, but I'm one of the divas."_

_"Oh, really?" Shawn grinned._

_"Yeah. It's a lot of hard work being a manager. You have to keep up with your partner."_

_"I thought you were a diva."_

_"Technically, yes. But I'm more of a manager than a competitor."_

_"Oh."_

_Shawn looked around the place, the other booths completely deserted as beer bottles and shots laid everywhere. Sunny took Shawn's hand and looked at him, Shawn looking back at her with a confused look._

_"You...want to dance?"_

_Shawn's heart pounded. As beautiful as she was, this woman, Sunny, seemed so nice._

_"Um...well..."_

_Sunny looked at Shawn, confused. "Are you nervous?"_

_"Well...you see...I..."_

_Sunny let Shawn's hand go and placed her's on his face. "Don't be shy. I'm not like my two friends who taunted you earlier."_

_"Oh...okay...then yes."_

* * *

"What are you doing here?"

"Shawn-"

"No, don't."

Shawn shook off her touch and quickly got up from his position on the floor and stood up, making way towards the locker room in a huff. There, he saw Diesel placing his clothes back in his bag, his face angry. Shawn stormed past his friend and quickly made way towards the door.

"You let her come in here?!" Shawn yelled as he grabbed the handle of the door.

Diesel looked up, confused, but the feeling quickly went away when the door slammed in front of him. He looked down and quickly went back to what he was doing.

"What's wrong with him?" Hunter asked, placing his attire's black coat in his locker.

Diesel sighed. "I allowed Sunny to come and hang with us. Little did I know that's the woman who broke his heart."


	15. Chapter 15

***I don't own the song or lyrics of the song used.**

Chapter 15

Shawn sat alone in the cold and dark room. He felt so mad he wanted to scream or cry. He just wanted to be alone. He always wanted to be alone. The room was completely dark and all the weight sets and training supplies around him were just shadows along with the ring in the middle of the room. Shawn had been sitting on the floor, just hearing himself breathing and nothing else. The training room wasn't as scary now as he used to think it was when it was dark. He decided that it would be best to try to walk around to ease his anger, or at least train in the ring so he could gain some strength or help him against his next opponent. Instead, he walked over to the corner of the room and saw, in the darkness, a small lamp plunged into one of the sockets on the wall and quickly turned it on. The light was bright enough so he could see the middle of the room, and, quickly, Shawn quickly flipped on the radio he had noticed beforehand and the radio began to play music.

_"We're part of the same place  
We're part of the same time  
We both share the same blood  
We both have the same mind..."_

Shawn knew the lyrics all too well, since this particular song he loved to listen to while training with Jose in the gym. Shawn began to mimic the song with his mouth, feeling his anger loosen quickly. He felt his body burst with energy, using his hands to mimic the lyrics as well as his body motions, singing the song that he felt so close to his heart. A song he used to sing all the time.

_"...Darlin' there's no way  
No, no, no, no, way I'm livin' without you  
I'm not livin' without you  
You see there's just no way...There's no way..."_

As the song continued, Shawn smiled at himself as he began to dance around the room. He felt the beat of the music and kept singing the song that blasted throughout the room. He danced his way over to the radio and turned up the volume. He began to sing the main part of the song that sang to his heart.

_"Tear down the mountains  
Yell, scream and shout  
You can say what you want  
I'm not walkin' out'..."_

Shawn really got into the song as he danced and sang his favorite verse, feeling his emotions from earlier disappear and his happiness began to take control. He smiled brightly as he continued to sing the song and dance slowly around the dark room.

Then the real verse he felt so much emotion to came on:

_"...I'm livin' without you  
I'm not livin' without you  
Not livin' without you  
I don't wanna be free  
I'm stayin', I'm stayin'  
And you, and you, and you  
You're gonna love me  
You're gonna love me, yes..."  
_

Once the song hit the high notes, Shawn stopped dancing and stood in the middle of the room, embracing the song as he and the singer on the radio ended the song together. Shawn dropped to his knees as the song ended, the force of the music powerful, letting his emotions out. As the song was over, Shawn panted through his mouth as he remained on the floor, his arms limp at his sides. He smiled a little as he realized what he had done. He was shocked at himself and his actions so much he barely noticed a figure standing in the doorway clapping.

"Bravo...Bravo..."

Shawn recognized the voice and quickly got up, dusting off his knees. The figure came closer and continued clapping.

"That was incredible."

Shawn felt his face get hot, realizing someone was watching him the whole time. The figure stopped in front of Shawn and stopped clapping at once.

"Thanks...Hunter."

Hunter laughed. "Come on, man, that was great. Your a real rockstar."

Shawn looked confused. "Really?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks."

Shawn began to walk slowly towards the radio, embarrassed beyond belief. He couldn't believe Hunter was watching him sing and dance. He was about to turn the radio off when he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hey, you don't have to be embarrassed. I used to sing and dance in front of my family all the time."

Shawn laughed a little. "You dance?"

Hunter blushed a little. "Kind of. Not all that great, though."

Shawn smiled and turned off the radio. He looked at Hunter. "Why were you watching me?"

"Diesel sent me to look for you. I was looking all over the place and I heard music and I followed the sounds to down here. I didn't want to interrupt your little concert down here."

"Oh." Shawn looked at the floor, then noticed the championship in Hunter's hand. He frowned and took it from Hunter's grasp. Hunter let the title go and quickly sighed.

"Diesel left with that woman back to the hotel."

"Great." Shawn mumbled.

"You can ride with me if you want."

"Sure."

Hunter smiled and began to walk out the door of the training room. Shawn followed him, hoping to get back to the locker room in time to get his stuff along with Hunter's and back to the hotel before he has to face _her_ again.


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Owen waited patently as he managed to slip into his nightshirt and quickly sit down on the bed in the hotel room. He sighed and picked up a magazine on the far side of the dresser next to the bed. Once he had flipped through half of the magazine, Bret emerged through the door and walked straight into the bathroom, slamming the door shut. Owen sat up in the bed and looked at the blank door before him.

"You okay, bro?"

Strange sounds of things crashing to the floor came from the bathroom. "Yeah. Why?"

"You seem mad about something. Oh," Owen sat up completely and leaned over the bed, fumbling through his duffel bag until he found the note he had forgotten many times to give to his brother. "You want to read the note now? I know you didn't want to see it at the show."

In the bathroom, Bret ran cold water down his hands as he watched the red substance wash away down the sink. He felt angry despite what he had told his brother. Listening to Owen now only made him angrier.

"Leave me alone, Owen!" Bret screamed.

In the room, Owen sighed and slowly placed the note on top of the duffel bag, not exactly sure how to make his brother realize how important this was. Then, the bathroom door opened and Bret emerged with a small smile on his face. Owen shrugged at him when Bret went over and hugged his brother before laying down in the opposite bed, his hands behind his head.

"What was that for?" Owen asked, confused.

Bret looked at him, his smile turned into a grin. "Trust me...I've got an idea."

Owen looked at his brother. "What are you talking about?"

Bret smirked, his hands now at his chest. "A new storyline. I'm thinking-"

"Bro, I don't think Vince is accepting new storylines now. He's more concerned for the ratings than anything else."

"Shut it, Owen," Bret sneered, now laying on his side. "I've got it all under control."

Just as Owen was about to open his mouth, he watched as his brother turned off the lamp on the dresser and turned over on his side, his back facing his brother. Owen sighed and proceeded to do the same, but kept the light on since he wasn't planning on falling asleep right away. He stared at the blank surroundings around him until he spotted something unusual. In the bathroom, a couple of small dressers had been knocked clean out of the counter. Owen turned his head back around briefly and, suddenly, found Bret's face in his.

Owen screamed and panted, pushing his hand against Bret's chest. "Don't do that, man!"

Bret laughed at his brother. "You know I wouldn't scare you without any news."

"Doubt it." Owen mumbled."

"Owen," Bret sneered. "I found out that the Hart Foundation is taking on Big Daddy wonderpet and Razor goatmouth at the next show. And you're the special referee."

As Bret walked back over to his bed, Owen said, "I've got my own problems next week. Who told you that?"

"Oh, a little someone named Vince. He changed the matches up just to see how the ratings go."

Bret climbed back into his bed and waited for his brother to say something, but he didn't get an answer and turned back over in the bed ready to sleep for good. Once he had heard the movements in the other bed come to a stop, Bret became angry again when he realized how much he wanted to break Shawn in half rather than his friends.

* * *

That morning, Bret woke up to the sound of his alarm clock and quickly bolted from his bed, rushing into the bathroom and picked up the drawers and placed them back in the slots of the counter. Bret sighed and turned on the faucet, allowing the cold water to slip through his hands, wincing when it touched the large cut on the side of his right hand. He must have caught it in his outburst. Bret cupped a few bits of water in his hands and rubbed them in his black hair, closing his eyes from the feeling. Once he was through, he turned off the faucet and looked in the mirror, his reflection grinning at him as he grinned himself.

He walked back into the room and noticed Owen was still asleep. He decided to let his brother rest and began to walk back towards the bed. He then saw the flat piece of paper on top of a duffel bag and slowly went over, not to disturb his brother, and picked it up. Bret studied it and quickly noticed the paper was covered in words.

Bret read the note and quickly gasped, his fists clenching the sides.


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17

**1994**

_Shawn felt a little nervous as he swayed gently on the dance floor. He didn't have a lot to say. Really, he couldn't open his mouth because this beautiful woman was dancing in his arms. He wasn't just nervous at the fact they both were only one of the few remaining couples on the dance floor, but the fact that he didn't even know this woman well enough to be her dance partner. He gave in anyway because he couldn't let this woman down. She was a lovely sight to him like she would to any other man. Shawn had to guess that this could only last one night._

_"So," Sunny whispered. "What's your story?"_

_"My story?" Shawn asked, looking at his feet, hoping not to trip over someone._

_"You know, where you came from and what not?"_

_"Oh...um..."_

_Sunny lifted Shawn's head and made him look at her. Into her eyes. She chuckled when she saw the look on this gorgeous man's face._

_Shawn blushed a little as Sunny's hand went back to his shoulder. "I...uh...I'm from Texas."_

_"And?"_

_"And I'm here. So what?"_

_"So, you don't have any family? You don't remember how you got into the business?"_

_"Oh, I was, uh, trained by Jose Lothario."_

_"I know that part," Sunny lifted Shawn's slipping arm on her waist as they continued swaying around the room slowly. "What I mean is, how did you become a wrestler?"_

_Shawn didn't know what to say. He sighed gently. "I've never told anyone before."_

_"You can tell me."_

_"It's not really important."_

_Sunny smiled. "I'm sure you've got a couple of stories to tell."_

_"Not really," Shawn looked at his feet. "Unless you want to hear about snake catching in our backyard."_

_"I'll pass on that story," Sunny shivered, her hands coming up to Shawn's neck. "Come on. I want to know. What exactly brought you into wrestling?"_

_Shawn sighed, looking at his feet, stopping the movement on the dance floor. "You really want to know?"_

_"Yes, please tell me." Sunny smiled, but felt a little off about this man. This Shawn._

_"Only if you tell me your story first." Shawn said, his voice low._

_Sunny grabbed Shawn's hand gently. "Come on. We'll talk elsewhere."  
_

* * *

"Shawn? Shawn?"

Shawn snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Hunter's voice next to him, both of them sitting in the car.

"We're here."

Shawn looked out in the open and saw the large hotel before him, the streetlights all around the building providing enough light to see the area around. Shawn smiled a little at Hunter and undid his seatbelt slowly, proceeding to open the car door and head straight for the trunk. He got his bag and championship and walked towards the front entrance. He looked behind him when he heard footsteps and saw Hunter not too close behind him, his bag on his shoulder. Shawn entered through the doors and quickly made way to the front counter, Hunter following.

Once they got to the front counter, the man behind it took out a book and tapped it. Shawn knew the drill: look for his name next to his roommates. Once Shawn found his name, he saw that his roommate was Razor. Shawn signed his initials next to his name and was quickly given a key card. He walked towards the elevator. Hunter looked over at Shawn and quickly looked through the book for his name.

Shawn pressed the button and waited for the doors to open. He looked at the ground and quickly shot a glance back at Hunter, who was now signing in. He turned his head back around and quickly found himself in the presence of Bret's friends.

"Looky here," The Main Man said. "It's Shawn Michaels."

One of the members stepped passed Shawn, turned back, and whispered in Shawn's ear, "Yeah, and his little friend over there is, too."

The members laughed and Shawn clenched his fists as he looked at the ground. The other two members stepped towards Shawn and surrounded him at all sides.

"Awww...is little Shawn gonna cry?" One said.

"Yeah, someone better give him his bottle." The Main Man said.

Shawn kept looking at the ground, his fingernails digging into his palms. His mouth tightened when the member behind him pushed him a little.

"Come on, little H-B-K, dance for us."

The members starting laughing harder. Shawn's mouth got tighter and he looked up at all the faces laughing at him.

"Shut up." He said.

The members stopped laughing one by one, but the Main Man kept chuckling.

"Look at this, guys, he's actually learned how to speak...properly."

The members laughed harder and slapped Shawn on the back and chest as they walked past him. However, Hunter grabbed the Main Man and looked him dead in the eyes, causing the Main Man to stop laughing completely, along with the other members.

"Apologize." Hunter sneered.

"Hunter, don't-" Shawn began.

"Shawn...tell them that their nothing but little cowards with small potential and big mouths, along with this fat boy I got in my hands right now."

"Wha-" The Main Man huffed.

Shawn looked at the members and Hunter all at once, then, out of anger, stomped his way over to the elevator door and pressed the button, not once looking at any of the men.

The members starting laughing, and the Main Man wiggled his way out of Hunter's grasp as Hunter looked at the elevator doors closing. The Main Man continued laughing with the rest and quickly walked over to his friends, high-fiving and slapping them on the back.

Hunter watched as the members left out the hotel door and quickly turned his attention back to the elevator. He walked towards it and pressed the button, hoping that he'd catch up to Shawn before he found his room.

As the elevator came to a stop, Shawn sighed as tears swelled in his eyes. He felt his heart grow heavy when he started to remember the things the members of the Hart Foundation said to him. Shawn snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the click of the elevator and the doors slowly opened.

On the other side, Sunny stood at attention, her face full of shock once she saw who the man in front of her was. Shawn gulped and quickly looked at the ground, trying to walk away.

"Shawn."

Shawn stopped walking, his back to Sunny. "What?"

Sunny sighed. "Please, I just want to talk to you."

"I have nothing to say. Stay out of my life, woman."

"Shawn-"

Shawn turned around in a huff and quickly felt his blood boil. "Get out! Stay away from me!"

With that, Shawn turned and walked quickly down the hallway, looking at his keycard in order to find his room. He breathed deeply and felt tears roll down his face as he adjusted the title on his shoulder, balancing the bag as well. He wanted to look back at her, but didn't feel the need to. He felt a sob on his lips when he quickly managed to turn the corner of the hallway.

Sunny watched as the man she once knew walked away from her. She quickly choked back tears as she entered the elevator.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Razor sat silently as he sipped his coffee at the dinning table. He quickly adjusted the magazines on the far side since he had already read them all. There was really nothing else to do but sit around. He quietly sipped another bit of the coffee before getting up and walking over to the two bags in the middle of the room. He looked at the first one, and knew it was his by the "R" initial on the top. He opened the bag and quickly took out a white bottle. He walked back over to the table and set the bottle next to the coffee.

In the bedroom, Shawn laid awake as he attempted to get more sleep since he hadn't been able to sleep much during the night. It was all because of _her_. She was the one who caused him to have a rough night trying to sleep. He had woken Razor up countless times when he kept turning the light on in the kitchen to drink a couple of glasses of milk Diesel had happened to pick up for all of them. His Mom always did that because it was her remedy when she was having trouble sleeping.

Now, Shawn was angry at himself for even thinking of her. He wanted her out of his life, and that was that. Even singing a song in the training room like he did couldn't shake that he still had to face her. It seemed so hard since last night, when he couldn't get her out of his head.

Turning over onto his stomach, Shawn could recall some of the memories they had.

* * *

**1994**

_Sunny smiled brightly at the gorgeous man walking next to her in the late moonlight. She pointed towards a room on the balcony of the hotel and they both quickly stopped walking and faced each other. Shawn smiled a little as he kept his balance against the railing of the balcony while trying so hard not to look into those beautiful green eyes of Sunny._

_Ever since they left the club, Shawn and Sunny began talking of their pasts. How they got into the wrestling business and what they had planned to do in the future if something came up. Shawn even managed to talk about all the times he shared with Marty at clubs and how Marty had left. Sunny had been listening closely, so it seemed. Shawn listened closely to her story, and felt a little awkward when she tried to touch his hand while talking to the hotel in the dead of night._

_Now, Shawn and Sunny managed to look at each other and smile. Sunny placed her hand on top of_ _Shawn's and looked into his eyes._

_"I had a great time." She said._

_"Me too," Shawn said, looking at the ground, hiding his blush._

_Sunny let Shawn's hand go and slowly put her's on his face. "You're sweet, Shawn."_

_"Thank you." Shawn whispered._

_Sunny smiled brightly and slowly leaned in close to Shawn and kissed him on the cheek. Once she pulled away, Shawn looked at her and grinned lightly, his whole body shaking from his nervous state. He didn't really know what to do next._

_Sunny looked back at the hotel room and quickly grabbed Shawn's hand, but Shawn pulled his hand free and looked at the ground, gripping the railing behind him._

_"I should go." Shawn said, his voice low._

_"Okay," Sunny smiled lightly. "Maybe I'll see you soon."_

_Sunny waved at Shawn and quickly turned to enter her room. Once the door to her room closed, Shawn stood there a second collecting what had happened. He had been kissed, on the cheek none the less, by this woman he had found to be so beautiful. He sighed deeply and quickly walked down the balcony and to his room four floors down. He entered his hotel room and quickly found Diesel sitting on the couch as Razor was asleep on the bed nearby._

_"Where were you?" Diesel asked, looking at Shawn._

_Shawn closed the door to the room. "I'll tell you in the morning."_

* * *

**Three Weeks Later**

_"How do I look, Raz?" Shawn asked as he straightened his shirt to get most of the wrinkles out of it. He hadn't had an iron, so he had to go with what he had. He found this shirt a little fitting for the special occasion, since he knew this brown long-sleeved shirt would go great with his brown suit._

_"Okay, I guess," Razor said, sitting on the nearby couch, sipping beer. "You should really change that shirt, though."_

_"Why? I like this shirt." Shawn turned towards Razor, who chuckled at Shawn's remark._

_Diesel entered the room and paused a second at the bedroom door to look at Shawn. He gave a short laugh. "Shawn...you look...cool."_

_Shawn frowned. "Okay, I get it, I'll take the shirt off."_

_Shawn walked back towards the bedroom, past the large figure of Diesel, and quickly fumbled through his bag for anything else._

_"Shawn," Diesel sighed. "There's nothing wrong with your clothes. I think you look great."_

_"No, I think this shirt isn't right for my date with Sunny. I'm nervous."_

_Diesel chuckled and looked at Razor. "Raz, you think Shawn looks good?"_

_"As in those ugly clothes he's got on? No, not at all." Razor's words were a little slurred, noting he was starting to get tipsy._

_"Don't listen to him, man, he's drunk." Diesel explained when he heard Shawn quicken his findings of new clothes._

_Shawn ignored his two friends and found a couple of clothes. "What do you think? The white one or red one?"_

_"The brown one. You'll be fine." Diesel smiled at Shawn and quickly went into the kitchen._

_Shawn sighed and placed the new shirts on the ground with the rest of the clothes scattered everywhere. He didn't have time to clean them up since he had to brush down his hair and teeth. He walked into the bathroom quickly and brushed his teeth slowly and gently. Once he managed to rinse out the brush, he grabbed his hairbrush and brushed his long hair slowly, carefully getting tangles out. He grabbed a hair-band and tied it around his hair, but it suddenly broke in half and Shawn picked up the two pieces off the floor. He was about to get another, but heard the doorbell ring._

_"Forget it." Shawn mumbled, fixing his hair and walking towards the living room._

_Once he got into the living room, Razor had managed to open the door somehow, talking slowly to whoever it was on the other side._

_"Raz!" Shawn whispered._

_Razor kept talking slowly. "Come...in._

_"Where's Shawn?"_

_"Who?"_

_"My date tonight."_

_"Oh...he...here."_

_Shawn patted Razor on the arm and Razor moved away from the door, slowly walking back to the couch. Diesel was blending a smoothie in the kitchen. Shawn looked at the beautiful woman in front of him and blushed when he quickly picked up the bouquet of colorful flowers on the nearby table and extended them to her._

_"They're beautiful, Shawn," Sunny said, sniffing them. "Thank you."_

_Shawn smiled. "I-I got them just for you."_

_"You're really sweet, Shawn." Sunny kissed Shawn on the cheek and put her hand on his shoulder, leading him out the door of the hotel._

_Walking towards the car, Shawn couldn't help but notice the colorful dress Sunny had on. It was red and had white stripes going down the edges with gold trimming on the bottom. Her red high heels matched perfectly, along with her long, blonde hair tied up with the front strings hanging down her face. Shawn was speechless. He had never seen a woman so beautiful than Sunny._

_Sunny paused at the passenger seat of the car and smiled brightly. "Thanks for taking me up on my offer tonight."_

_Shawn blushed. "A-Anytime, Sunny. I was busy the first few times you asked me."_

_"Well, I'm just glad we can talk more now that we're alone together."_

_Shawn opened the car door for Sunny. "Please understand I've never been on a real date before."_

_Sunny smiled at him. "You'll do fine."_

* * *

Shawn continued to rest comfortably in the hotel bed, his mind remembering those things. If only he could stop the memories and forget that it never happened, but they didn't want to leave and just continued to haunt him.

He opened his eyes and sat up in the bed, rubbing his shoulders before slipping the blankets from under him and walking into the bathroom. Once there, he washed off his face with cold water and proceeded to brush his hair down a little. He gasped when he pulled on a tangle, and quickly loosened it. He dropped the hairbrush on the counter and looked at himself in the mirror. He didn't really care about what he looked like, but, in another part of his mind, he did care for being someone he could trust.

"Hey, Raz, how's it going?" A voice called in the distance.

"Fine, man." Razor's voice was low and grim.

Shawn turned around, hearing the voices, but decided to stay where he was. He was about to pick up the hairbrush again, but decided to look through the cabinets for any conditioner he could put in his hair when taking a shower sooner or later. The voices continued, but Shawn didn't care or catch on to what was said. He looked through the cabinets quickly and tried to find the conditioner, but was out of luck. Once he got to the last cabinet, he opened it and found nothing except Razor's steel comb glaring down at Shawn.

* * *

Hunter and Razor laughed a little when they had both managed to sit down at the table and talk about their match at the pay-per-view. Razor noted on how he could get the upper hand and then he could try to get disqualified, but Hunter suggested making the chair hit the Referee and then try to beat him up with it. Razor seemed to like the idea.

"...And there's this kid that Vince has asked me to mentor for the next couple of weeks. His name his Scott, but people call him 1-2-3 Kid."

"He's cool with me and Diesel. Maybe he could hang out with us tonight after the show."

"Oh, that'd be cool for him. But I've got to start hitting the gym more since I'm losing some strength."

Razor laughed and quickly decided to drink the last bits of his coffee before he walked over to the pot to get some more.

"Want some?"

"Sure." Hunter lowered his eyes a second, then lifted them when he heard noises. He saw Shawn walk into the dining room and watched as he stood over in the corner, watching Razor until he could get a cup of his own.

"Hey, Shawn." Razor said, walking over to the table and giving Hunter some coffee.

"Hey." Hunter said, waving at Shawn.

Shawn waved back and grabbed a glass of his own, filling it up to the top and leaned against the table drinking the coffee.

"Why don't you sit down?" Hunter asked.

Shawn lowered his gaze at Hunter. "I'm fine."

Razor sipped his drink and quickly said, "We're going out after the show tonight. Want to come?"

Shawn thought about that a second, since the last time they went out Razor had gone crazy and attacked everybody on Shawn's birthday.

"It'd be cool with me," Shawn said, his eyes lowered towards the black coffee. "Who's all coming?"

"Me, Diesel, this guy here, and 1-2-3 Kid."

Shawn shuddered a second, thinking about what he had done to the Kid in that match. "O-Okay. Cool with me."

Then, someone knocked on the door, and all three men looked at each other. Razor and Hunter looked at Shawn, and Shawn gave up and walked slowly towards the door, opening it to see a familiar face on the other side. Only the face was that of the 1-2-3 Kid's.

"Hey, Kid, come on in." Hunter signaled.

Shawn was frozen at the door, being the 1-2-3 Kid had never talked to Shawn before. He moved away from the door and allowed the Kid to come in, who looked over at Shawn quickly before walking over to Hunter, giving him a high-five.

"Hey, Hunt, I need to refresh my skills for my match tonight."

"I'll help you out. We've invited you to our group party tonight."

"That's great."

Shawn remained standing and watched as the three men laughed and talked about the many things that seemed interesting to them, but not Shawn. It wasn't that Shawn was sleepy, he just wasn't interested in joining the little group. Something in him, however, wanted to be the center of attention.


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19

At the arena, Shawn slowly made his way past the double doors and into the long hallway that led to the locker rooms. He tried to ignore most of the stares he got from some of the superstars nearby, since he was wearing the golden championship on his shoulder. He wished Vince could at least suggest a new story line. Really because he was tired of being the champion. For two straight months, he had worn the thing and it all came down to him getting tossed around, looked down upon, and put in a hospital. Shawn managed to walk past Stone Cold Steve Austin, who didn't seem to care if Shawn had bumped shoulders with him. Shawn sighed and knew that even the toughest of superstars in the industry didn't care at all for the little leagues of the wrestling business.

Shawn turned the corner and heard a few whispers down the hall, two bald men looking at him and whispering in each other's ears once Shawn had made it past the two. One of the men walked a little up to Shawn and, with his hand cupped to his mouth, made a wolf howl right in Shawn's ear. Shawn stopped a little, but kept going once he heard the laughter of the new men get harder. Shawn didn't really care about these men. It was to be expected out of the Bushwhackers.

Shawn continued walking down the hall, quickly trying to avoid anyone else that he happened to stumble upon. He looked at the ground a second and didn't catch the fact that Owen Hart was standing on the side of the hall Shawn was walking across. Once Shawn had made it past Owen, who didn't say a word or even looked at him, he quickly found the locker room area and walked towards the doorway.

Once he got close to the door, it flew open and Shawn crashed onto the floor back-first, the championship thrown from his hands and into the corner of the hall. Shawn groaned a second before looking up, the lights on the ceiling blinding him, and covered his eyes with his hand, but brought it down to his back to rub it a few seconds.

"You okay?" A strong voice said.

Shawn looked up. "Mark?"

Mark Callaway looked at Shawn and smiled lightly. "I guess you got yourself in a situation."

"I guess." Shawn shrugged as he touched his aching shoulders.

"Here," Mark gripped Shawn's forearm and quickly let Shawn come to his feet. "That should help."

"Thanks, Mark."

"Anytime, Shawn."

Mark walked down the hall, chuckling when he saw the championship in the corner and picked it up. He walked over, handing it to Shawn.

"The least I could do is apologize." Mark said, touching the painted black tear on his face before turning around and walking down the hall.

Shawn smiled lightly and turned towards the locker room door, easily walking inside and saw the many lockers in the room. Since they were in Wyoming, all the superstars had to share the same locker room, to the cost of having their names taped on the front of each one. Shawn found his name taped to a locker in the middle of the room and quickly opened it.

He gasped and stepped back when water poured out of the locker and on the floor, dampening the white carpet. Shawn panted a little, and caught his breath once he was able to watch the water come out completely. Then, he heard small laughs and snickers in the distance. Shawn turned his head and saw the Hart Foundation in the doorway, Bret in front of the entire pack. Shawn tensed up and suddenly felt his blood boil. He closed the locker and dropped his bag down on instant, the championship not far behind, causing some of the members to look at him curiously. Bret the most.

"What's the matter, Boytoy? Still shook up about what happened in the boiler room?" Bret sneered, his teammates laughing.

"No," Shawn's face felt hot. "I'm just shook up about the fact you can't even get a life."

"Ooh..." One member sighed sarcastically.

Bret looked at his wrist. "I've got some minutes to kill. Don't want to waste them."

Bret took a step forward into the room and quickly gave a signal to his friends, where they stepped back and watched from the doorway. Shawn backed up against the wall as Bret took steps towards him, an evil grin on his face. Shawn gulped and, without thinking, threw his bag at Bret, hitting Bret in the face. The members gathered in the room one by one, shoulder to shoulder, and looked at their still-standing leader, who had his face lowered to the ground. Then, Bret lifted his cold eyes at Shawn and ran towards him.

Bret punched and struck Shawn at every instant, pulling on his clothes and even his hair, wanting him to look in his eyes. He continued punching his face, chest, and arms. Bret punched Shawn a good time in the face, leaving Shawn crying out in pain and falling on the floor. The members laughed and walked over to Shawn, the Main Man picking Shawn up by his arms and holding him in place.

Bret lowered himself to Shawn's level and spoke, "You know...I've paid dues in my time, but you've got dues that deserve consequences."

Shawn groaned when he felt the grip on his arms get tighter, and he lowered his head to keep from screaming. Bret grabbed Shawn's head and caused Shawn to yell in pain, Bret's evil grin entranced on his face.

"Boytoy, Your gonna learn your lesson. You've committed crimes against me. Even against you-know-who."

Shawn sighed, but grunted in pain. "I didn't know."

"You did, didn't you?"

Shawn looked at Bret, seeing the cold eyes of the man who had been his enemy for a long time. "I really didn't know."

Bret let Shawn's head drop and quickly stood up, walking over to the two other members of the group.

"Go get the rope." He whispered.

Shawn tried to escape from the grasp, but it got tighter when he continued to move around. Bret made a signal to the Main Man, who let Shawn go. Shawn hit the ground face-first with a grunt, causing the Main Man to laugh and kick him in the ribs a few good times. Shawn winced from the pain and grabbed his side once the impacts stopped. Bret then turned Shawn over on his back and, without warning, hit Shawn in the face again. Shawn screamed and covered his face, his eyes swelled with tears from the impact.

"Shawn Michaels...the so-called Showstopper," Bret laughed. 'Well, now, we're going to stop your show."

"Please...stop." Shawn whispered.

"No can do. You started it."

Shawn let his hands stay on his face, hoping that he could at least protect himself from these men. He felt a warm substance in-between his fingers. Soon, Shawn could hear footsteps coming down the hall, and, instantly, Shawn felt his hands getting pulled out in front of him and clenched together, feeling a tight substance around his wrists. Then, he felt something go over his eyes, blinding him from seeing anything but darkness.

"This is your plan?" A voice asked.

"Yes, Owen," Bret looked at his younger brother. "Go get that thing over there."

Owen looked over and saw that Bret was pointing to the championship on the floor. He slowly went over and picked it up, quickly handing it to Bret. Once Bret got the belt, he walked over to Shawn and the Members.

"Bro, what are you going to do with that?" Owen asked, concern on his face.

Bret managed to see the rope was long enough to be hooked to something. He grabbed Shawn's bag and threw it on top of the lockers, then grabbed the end of the rope and tied it to the bag's strap, then tied the bag around a piece of the surrounding lockers and grinned when he heard Shawn yell in pain from the hits and blows he was getting from the three members. Owen stood in the corner, concerned, looking at his brother.

"Bro?"

"What?"

"What are you planning to do?"

"Trust me, Owen," Bret clutched the championship in his hand. "Trust me."

With those words, Bret walked over to his friends and Shawn, who was on his knees, and quickly tore Shawn's shirt off his back and around his waist. Shawn screamed when the championship came crashing down on his back, the impacts hard and heavy, wanting the pain to stop. The impacts left red streaks across his back as Bret kept smashing the belt on Shawn's back. Shawn tried to undo the rope on his hands, but it didn't work, and he soon felt a cold liquid run down his head and down his body, engulfing him just as it did in the boiler room that night.

As the Main Man stopped pouring the bottle of water on Shawn, Bret looked over at Owen, who stood still in the corner of the room.

"Owen," Bret pointed. "Give me the scissors."

Owen's face became concerned. "Bret, he's had enough."

"Get the scissors." Bret's tone turned serious.

Owen looked at Shawn, who was now being cut loose from the ropes, and looked at his brother, who had stared at him coldly. Owen sighed and walked over towards the nearby lockers, where some scissors happened to be on top of Bret's locker and grabbed them. He looked at the scissors and then at his brother, his hand extended. Owen looked at Shawn, who was now laying face-first on the ground, the members had already taken his blindfold off and Shawn groaned in pain. Owen stood still, looking at the helpless Shawn, and suddenly felt the scissors yanked out of his hands.

Bret walked over to Shawn as the members all gathered around towards the front door, checking to see if anyone was around. Bret grinned and put his knee forcefully on Shawn's back, the pressure applied causing Shawn to scream in pain. Shawn managed to look up at Bret and saw the scissors in his hand.

"Please...don't..."

"Sorry, Boytoy." Bret snapped the scissors in the air a couple of times and Shawn got the idea.

"Please! Please don't do it! Please!"

Bret grinned and lowered the scissors to Shawn, gripping his hair with his other hand to about shoulder length. Shawn screamed when the scissors came down on his hair and watched as lock after lock got cut.

"Please stop."

Bret kept cutting Shawn's hair and soon made it to Shawn's shoulders, keeping some of his hair a little going towards his back. Bret stood up and Shawn felt tears in his eyes and groaned from the pressure of Bret's knee, then felt his arm gripped and he was turned over on his back. Bret let Shawn's cut hair fall in his face and quickly left the room, laughing with the other members. Owen looked back at Shawn and quietly left.

Shawn sobbed when he managed to sit up and look at the little strands of hair that Bret had cut. Sure, he had long hair, but shoulder-length was the last thing he wanted. He tried to undo the rope around his wrists, but it was too tight to loosen. Tears rolled down Shawn's face one by one.

"Someone...please...help me."


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20

Diesel sat quietly in the front seat of the van while Razor and 1-2-3 Kid sat in the back as Hunter drove towards the arena. He sighed and looked out the window of the large van, worried about his friend. He hadn't seen Shawn since he left the hotel room so early since no one had spoken to the two of them about the plans for the night. Diesel looked over at Hunter and gave him a little smile.

"Why didn't Shawn stay at the hotel with us?" He asked.

"I don't know," Hunter kept his eyes on the road once he came to a turning lane. "I'm a little worried about the guy."

"How?"

"He...He's not like other people, is he?"

Diesel took in the words for a few seconds. "He's normal like you and me, but he's had a lot of problems in the past."

Razor laughed as 1-2-3 Kid joked around about his favorite TV shows and Diesel glanced back at the two men before turning his attention back to Hunter. Hunter looked over at Diesel when the car slowed down at a stop sign.

"Why do you care about Shawn?" Diesel asked.

Hunter shrugged. "He just needs somebody."

* * *

"Help me. Please. Somebody."

Shawn begged under his breath as he tried to break free of the tight rope around his wrists. He had felt tears stroll his face countless times as he tried to get away from the forces holding him in place on the floor, but at the fact of Bret and his friends' actions. He tried so hard to forget what had happened, but every time Shawn looked down at the broken and small pieces of hair on the ground, he couldn't help but cry and sob softly.

He had tried so hard to break free, but now it seemed hopeless. Besides his sadness, he felt confused about why no other superstar had even stepped foot inside the same locker room he was now tied in. Shawn tried to find answers, but he didn't care about anything at this point besides breaking the ropes off his wrists and escaping from this room.

Shawn tried so hard to forget about Bret and his friends, but he could hear their laughs and chuckles in his head, as well as his own yells and screams of pain and hurt. Shawn closed his eyes tight when he felt the laughs and yells engulf his whole mind, like he was hearing them right in front of him again. He tried to think of other things, but they stayed blocked by the sounds. He couldn't get them out no matter how hard he tried. He pulled down on the rope again, but it still wouldn't budge. The end of the rope wrapped around the strap of the bag moved a few inches each time Shawn pulled on the rope. He let his arms rest a second, aching from all the torture he suffered, and closed his eyes again, the remains of the sounds still echoing in his ears.

Then, he felt something on his shoulder. He opened his eyes slightly and saw the figure of a person crouched in front of him. Shawn opened his eyes completely and saw the person in front of him, looking into the other's eyes.

"What do you want?" Shawn asked.

"I heard you from down the hall and I had to see what was going on." Sunny said, her eyes serious as she looked at Shawn.

Shawn tugged on the rope before looking at Sunny. "You could say I'm in a predicament."

"Shawn," Sunny placed a hand on his shoulder, but Shawn shrugged it away. "Do one thing for me and I'll set you free."

"Whatever it is, the answer is no."

"Shawn-"

"The answer is no. I just want to get out of this." Shawn pulled on the rope some more, able to see the bag move towards the edge of the lockers. He smiled a little and tugged on it some more, bringing the bag down on the floor completely, breaking the hook the bag's strap was stuck to. Sunny frowned as  
Shawn began to untie the rope on his hands.

"Shawn," Sunny said. "I know you said you didn't want me in your life, but I'd figured I help you now."

Shawn looked at Sunny, confused by her actions when she grabbed Shawn's bag and untied the strong knot of the rope and quickly reached for Shawn's hands. Shawn flinched back, but allowed Sunny to touch him in order to untie the rope on his hands.

Once Shawn was free from the rope, he began rubbing his aching wrists. Sunny smiled at him a little, causing Shawn to look at her, but didn't smile.

"Thanks." Shawn said, sighing.

Sunny smiled and Shawn got up from his position and stretched his muscles. He began touching his hair, seeing that it thankfully wasn't too short. He walked towards Sunny and picked up his bag and championship before turning around and exiting the room, leaving Sunny behind.

When Shawn got out into the middle of the hall, he felt a tap on his shoulder. He sighed and turned around.

"What?" He asked.

"Shawn," Sunny sighed. "At least let me tell you that one thing I wanted you to do."

Shawn looked at the ground, furious. "I don't want to hear it."

"Please."

Shawn looked at her. "What? I don't have all day."

Then, Shawn felt Sunny's hands on his shoulder, rubbing him as he felt her lips collide with his. He jumped back, but felt the sensation again when he tried to move Sunny's hands away from him and avoid her completely. Shawn stepped back and felt his back press against the wall, his hands towards his face, but kept getting them pushed back due to Sunny's actions.

Shawn, out of anger, used his hands to push Sunny's body away from him. He closed his eyes when he heard her scream as she laid out on the floor, her hands smoothing down her dress as she sat there, tears in her eyes.

Shawn rubbed his lips and looked at his fingers, seeing the lipstick on them. He used his aching wrist to wipe away the remaining bits on his mouth and quickly walked down the hall, furious, not caring for Sunny's cries

In the bathroom, Shawn sat quietly as he was pressed up against the wall, his head leaning back to try to avoid the tears threatening to come out of his eyes. He sighed deeply and rubbed his aching wrists. He looked at the ground a second before looking over at his bag and the championship on top of it. He saw the championship and how it remained golden and shiny despite all the hurt and pain it caused him. Shawn felt his blood boil and balled his hands into fists, trying not to think about the pain and suffering he endured from the Hart Foundation, but it was torture for him when he once again heard the many laughs and chuckles from the group, as well as the many superstars who had laughed at him before. He clenched his fists tighter and felt his fingernails dig into his skin. He looked at the ground and then, out of anger, sprung up and walked around the bathroom, trying desperately to forget what he was hearing in his head.

He paced the floors, his breathing hard, and soon stopped to look at his reflection in the mirror. He saw the look on his face and he hated it. He also hated the fact that he was forced to deal with his haircut thanks to Bret. He touched his hair and felt how soft it was, from showering before coming to the arena, and noticed that it came down to his shoulders. Shawn grumbled under his breath and pounded his fist against the sink, wincing from the pain it caused. He grabbed his wrist and held it tight, feeling the pain creeping up his arm.

Sitting back on the floor, Shawn looked around the entrance and saw no one coming in. Then, he reached over and opened his bag, the pain increasing, and pulled out the steel comb. He looked at it a second before letting it pierce his skin.

* * *

"Five minutes until showtime!" A Referee yelled as he traveled down the halls and towards the locker room with all the superstars. Hunter nodded at the man and quickly placed his black coat on his shoulders before adjusting the sleeves. He grabbed his cane and quickly saw Diesel on the other side, dressing into his wrestling attire for the night. Razor was in the far corner talking to Jerry Lawler and one member of the Bushwackers before Jerry left and Razor left the Bushwacker to himself.

Razor patted Hunter on the shoulder. "You still going with the plans tonight."

"Yeah," Hunter smiled. "As long as we can find everyone after the show."

"That shouldn't be too hard."

Just around the corner, Owen walked into the room and quickly went to his locker, ignoring the stares he got from Diesel and Razor. Owen walked quickly towards the door, but almost tripped on Hunter's cane, Hunter catching him by the arm.

"Whoa, be careful there." Hunter warned.

"T-Thanks." Owen looked at the ground before walking out the door and down the hall.

Razor smirked and looked over at Diesel. "What's wrong with that guy?"

"I don't know," Diesel said, pulling his straps over his shoulders. He walked towards the door. "I'm gonna go look for Shawn."

As Diesel walked out the door, Hunter went back to fixing his tight sleeves. He then saw a man in pink and black attire walk through the locker room door and walk over to the number of lockers. Hunter noticed this man and looked down, not wanting an trouble for him. Razor kept shooting glares at the same man, the man's grin entranced on his face.

Bret turned around and noticed Razor's stare. "What are you looking at, goatmouth?"

"Just curious, have you ever noticed how big your grin is when you plot trouble?"

"No," Bret sneered. "But I'm sure your big mouth could use a filter. All that food you must consume everyday must be working on your body, I mean, you are getting a little big there, Ramon."

"It's Razor, you piece of trash. Why don't you go frolic somewhere else and get the hell out of here?"

Bret lifted his head a little. "Maybe I will, 'cause I'm the best there is, the best there was," Bret walked towards the door, but stopped short when he saw Hunter looking at the ground. He leaned towards Hunter's ear. "And the best there ever will be."

As Bret left the room, Hunter shot a glance at him before looking back at Razor, who threw his water bottle at the doorway. Hunter dodged it and quickly stepped over to Razor, whose hands locked across his chest.

"You okay?" Hunter asked.

"Yeah," Razor shot a glance at the door. "Let's go. It's showtime, anyway."

Shawn quickly pulled on his tights and quickly adjusted them so they wouldn't fall down on him. He frowned lightly when he saw his wrist and grabbed a piece of white tape from his bag and wrapped it around his wrist. After getting the first wrist done, he did the second one. Once both were completed, he opened the door to the bathroom stall and walked over to the sink, turning on the fosset and splashing water on his face. He heard footsteps coming around the corner and continued what he was doing.

"Shawn?"

Shawn looked over, seeing Diesel standing beside him. Shawn smiled and continued splashing water on his face, sighing as he managed to turn the fosset off.

"Where have you been, buddy? I've been looking all over for you."

Shawn looked at him. "I was in here. Thinking of things."

Diesel noticed Shawn's bag and championship over in the corner of one stall and looked back at Shawn. "You've been in here the whole time?"

"Sure, if you count getting a haircut around here."

"Really? I didn't even notice."

Shawn frowned. "Thanks."

Shawn walked over to the stall and picked up his bag and championship, placing both on each shoulder. He grinned at Diesel before patting him on his chest.

"Think you could do me a favor and watch my stuff while I'm in my match?"

"Sure."

"Cool. I'll repay you by watching your bags."

Diesel grinned. "I guess it's a deal. Are you feeling okay, Shawn?"

"Yeah," Shawn said, not certain of his emotions at the moment. "I'm okay."


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21

After the Referee counted up to seven, Shawn got up on his feet and locked up with Ric Flair and quickly tried to take him down, Ric using his quick wit to knock Shawn down on his back. Shawn quickly got back up, getting the crowd pumped up, and soon managed to hit Ric seven times before the count of five and managed to hit sweet chin music on Ric. He went for the three count and the bell rang, ending the match. The crowd cheered as Shawn's hand raised in victory. Shawn frowned when he got the championship back in his hands and looked over at Jose Lothario, who had already been walking up the ramp. Shawn felt his heart get heavy, but soon felt a tap on his shoulder and quickly saw Vince in the ring with him. Shawn grew confused, then felt Vince's breath in his ear.

"I think you need to see me in my office after the show."

Shawn nodded at his boss and watched as he left the ring and back to the announcer's table. Shawn quickly walked out of the arena and into the backstage area, where he walked mid-way down the hall until he saw Jose sitting on a steel container. He frowned and walked over to the man, his heart heavier when Jose didn't look at him.

"Jose." Shawn said, his voice shaking.

"What is it, Shawn?" Jose kept looking at the ground.

"I just came to check on you. Are you okay?"

"Shawn, I've got my issues," Jose looked at Shawn, his face serious. "I would have talked to you these past few weeks, but I haven't been able to speak to you. You're always busy with your friends and what not."

"Jose," Shawn said. "I-I'm sorry for what I said the other week. I know you haven't heard that yet, so I thought maybe now would be a good time."

Jose stood up and walked over to Shawn, then, without warning, threw his arm around him. Shawn hugged his mentor back and quickly smiled, satisfied with himself.

* * *

Vince sat quietly at his office, sighing as he looked at the clock. It was passed 9:30, which meant the show was about to be over. He wrote down something on some papers before hearing the door click open, hearing footsteps entering the room.

Vince looked up and smiled. "Shawn, so glad of you to join us."

Shawn smiled at Vince, but quickly frowned when he saw the figure of Bret sitting in the chair opposite Vince's desk. Another empty chair was beside Bret, who was looking at Shawn as Shawn closed the door to the room. Shawn walked slowly over to the empty chair and sat down, removing the championship from his shoulder and placed it in his lap. He kept his eyes forward, trying to avoid Bret's stare.

"Well, gentlemen, let's-" Vince paused a second to look at Shawn. "What the hell happened to you?"

"What are you talking about, sir?"

"Your eye. What happened to your eye? It's...black and blue."

Shawn touched his eye and winced back from the pain. He knew the bruise on his eye was there even before his match. It was obvious that the black eye came from the Hart Foundation.

"Well?"

Shawn looked at Vince, then managed to look a little over at Bret, whose eyes darted towards Shawn. Shawn gulped and looked down, his breath heavy.

"Mr. Michaels? Today, if you wish."

"Oh...uh..."

Shawn managed to look over at Bret again, whose eyes remained glued at him. Shawn looked at Vince and sighed.

"I...I fell down the stairs at the hotel." He said.

Vince leaned back in his chair. "Well...be more careful next time."

"Yes, sir." Shawn whispered.

Shawn gazed over at Bret, whose face entranced with a evil grin. Vince cleared his throat, getting the attention of both men.

"Gentlemen, it has come to my attention that the ratings have declined for the past couple of months. Of course, we are trying our best to gain audience approval. You two seem to keep the ratings from sliding any further and that's a good thing. Now, Bret, Shawn, you two would be great entertainers if you put your skills to the test against each other at the next pay-per-view."

"What are you talking about?" Shawn asked.

"The next pay-per-view, Shawn. Me and Bret here have our eyes set on a new story line rivalry between the two of you."

Shawn gulped. "Well...that sounds nice and all...but...I..."

"But what?" Vince's eyes narrowed.

"I...don't think it's a good idea."

"I think it is." Bret said, his grin entranced on his face.

"Best two out of three, Mr. Michaels. Better luck in our next meeting," Vince said, folding his hands. "Now, you two are excused. Have a good night."

Shawn sighed and got up, as well as Bret, and the two made way out of the office. Bret made it towards the water fountain and Shawn quickly set his eyes on the nearby door, pushing it open and exiting towards the staircase. He paused a second to collect his thoughts, but quickly felt himself being pushed down and quickly tumbling down the stairs. Shawn landed on the ground face-first and groaned when he felt pains in his stomach and arms. He heard noises coming from behind him and looked up a little to see Bret standing over him.

Bret smirked. "You're pathetic, loser. You think you can get out of this easy? Not by a long shot."

"What's going on here?!" A voice yelled.

Shawn couldn't barely move, but knew the voice was coming from Vince. Bret looked up and saw Vince standing on top of the staircase. Shawn tried to move, but felt pains while doing so.

"Oh, my God. Are you okay, Shawn?" Bret asked, quickly picking Shawn up by his arms and pulling him to his feet, his face with serious compassion.

"Everything all right down there?" Vince asked, concerned.

"Yes, sir. Shawn just fell down the staircase again. He's an accident waiting to happen." Bret said, laughing and grinning. Shawn just stared at him.

"Are you okay, Shawn?" Vince asked.

Shawn looked at Bret, who let Shawn's arms go, then at Vince, who looked on. Shawn sighed and nodded.

"Yes, sir. I'm okay." He said, looking at the ground, trying to ignore the pain in his arms and stomach.

"Okay, then. Like I said, be careful next time." Vince shook his head and went back inside the building.

Shawn gulped, then looked at Bret, whose hand was now gripping Shawn's collar.

"An accident waiting to happen." Bret sneered, then knocked Shawn back into the brick wall before walking down the sidewalk to his rental car. Shawn stood there, waiting for Bret to leave, and, once Bret left, he quickly picked up his championship on the ground and walked down the steps to the rental car. He began to feel his whole body burn, and knew he wasn't going to make it the night without any ice.

He shot a glance back at Vince's office before turning on the engine and driving to the hotel.


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22

"Come on, Shawn, this is a celebration. Lighten up."

Razor nudged Shawn's arm with his elbow, but Shawn didn't move out of his sitting position at the table. He looked down at his coffee and sighed. He looked up to speak, but Razor was already talking in the corner of the small bar with Diesel, Hunter, and 1-2-3 Kid. Shawn frowned and picked up the cup, sipping the hot liquid inside before setting it down and eyeing the talking and laughter of the three men before him.

"Next thing you know, the guy is laying on his back begging I'd pin him one-two-three. So I did, and he didn't lift a shoulder." Razor was boasting about his big win for the night. He hadn't been on a lucky streak the past month and was now getting back in the winning circle.

Hunter and Diesel laughed while Kid chuckled. Razor gave off one of his big and loud laughs, indicating he got drunk off of the whisky he had gulped down.

"So, you haven't won a single match in a month?" Kid asked.

"Yeah, yeah," Razor's words began to slur. "But it's 'ol Vince who told me to lose. He makes most of the matches, don't he?"

"Sure," Diesel chimed in. "And he makes most of us pay for it."

Hunter shrugged. "Haven't gotten a single hit yet."

Shawn looked back at his coffee and sipped it again, his hands tightening up into fists. He drank the last drops of the hot drink and continued to sit where he was. Since this was all Razor's idea, Shawn didn't feel like he should talk to anyone invited.

"Oh, boy," Kid was laughing at a joke Diesel had made. "I've got to sit down."

"Me too. My legs are getting stiff from all this waiting for a drink." Diesel said, then sat down in a nearby chair. He looked over at Shawn. "Ain't you gonna join us, man?"

Shawn looked at Diesel. "No. I'll pass tonight."

Diesel sighed and Razor managed to sit in a chair in his drunken state. Kid followed him and Hunter sat down opposite the three. Shawn looked at the granite counter and kept his eyes on it. He frowned, not feeling up to celebrating anything tonight. Then, he shot up a glance at Razor when Razor started throwing up on the floor. Diesel and Kid jumped back while Hunter ran to grab towels.

"That's disgusting!" Kid screamed.

"Too much liquor, man," Diesel said as he held Razor's hair back. "Too much liquor."

Hunter came back with a towel he borrowed from the manager and cleaned up the mess. Diesel threw Razor's arm around his neck and frowned at the drunk man.

"I'm taking him upstairs," Diesel looked at Shawn. "He'll sleep in my room tonight."

"Okay." Shawn whispered. He and Razor were sharing a hotel until the next show.

Kid finished the job and took the towels back to the manager. When he was gone, Hunter sighed and looked over at Shawn, then walked over to the table and sat down next to Shawn.

"Not a good night, huh?" Hunter asked.

"No," Shawn admitted. "I'm not in a good mood."

"I understand," Hunter fooled around with the plastic fork holder on the side of the table. "I see you got a haircut. Why'd you get one?"

"I didn't want one. Bret and his buddies-" Shawn stopped, seeing the look in Hunter's eyes. "They...they just thought I needed one is all."

"No, Shawn. They thought it was best to take control of you. Didn't you try to ignore them or just walk away?"

Shawn felt his heart sting. "Why does it matter?"

"Because...that's not the way to go on with your life."

Shawn looked at Hunter and almost curled his hands into fists. "I'm fine now."

"Werent you fine before they did this to you?" Hunter touched Shawn's hair, causing Shawn to jerk back and get out of the chair, walking angrily down the hall of the bar and towards the bathroom. Hunter sighed and shook his head. He didn't know how conversations could work.

* * *

Shawn looked at himself in the mirror and quickly felt his breathing deepen. He knew he had been fine all day, but it was Bret who came and messed it all up for him. It was all because of _her_.

He fumbled through his jean's pockets and felt a sharp object in hand. He looked at the steel comb and smiled a little before rolling up his sleeve. He quickly felt a sting on his wrist, near a vein, hoping maybe he could catch and break it. But that would be too messy. Shawn closed his eyes tight when the stinging sensation continued, getting harder to bear. He breathed deeper and deeper until he could find the strength to look down and see the straight line of blood on his skin. He picked the comb towards another spot and proceeded again.

Then, the sound of the door opened. Shawn hurried to put the comb away and succeeded before he saw a figure entering through the corner of the bathroom. He turned he wrist to his jeans.

"Shawn?" Hunter asked, then saw the other man. "I'm sorry I pressured you like that. I didn't mean anything by it."

"So everything you told me was a lie?"

"No," Hunter sighed. "I just want to help you is all."

Shawn glared at the mirror. "I don't need your help."

Hunter frowned, but quickly felt shock when he saw the trail of blood running down Shawn's pants.

"Uh...Shawn?"

"What?"

"Why are you bleeding?"

Shawn gasped under his breath and looked down, seeing the blood running down his pants towards his knees. He looked around, trying to find something, but was suddenly caught by Hunter and found his hand under some paper. The blood bled through it fast.

"It's not stopping." Hunter mumbled.

"What do we do?" Shawn was beginning to panick, his head spinning.

"We need to get something to hold the blood back." Hunter looked around. "Hold on."

Shawn nodded quickly and watched Hunter leave the bathroom. He covered the paper with his hand, but the blood kept coming and was all over his palm in seconds. Hunter suddenly found his way back and pressed a towel on Shawn's arm, tying it at the ends to keep the pressure stable. Shawn sighed and felt his stomach churn from all the blood he was seeing. He looked at his pants and saw all the blood there, too. He frowned and tried to think of words to say.

"I-I-I-"

"Don't say your sorry. It's okay, Shawn."

Shawn nodded, having no choice but to stay quiet in the matter.

"How did this happen, anyway?"

"I-I must have hit my arm when I wasn't looking. You know there's some sharp nails around here."

"I guess your right. Kid did get his attire stuck on a nail earlier."

Shawn smiled a little, feeling better about his statement. Hunter touched Shawn's shoulder.

"Come on, let's get back to the hotel."


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23

**1994**

_Shawn sat down with a sigh as he tried to stretch his bones and muscles after an exhausting match with Jake Roberts. That chair shot took him out a few seconds before he finally managed to gain the upper hand, but felt a pull in his lower shoulders when he went for the sweet chin music. He still got Jake down and pinned him for the win. Shawn rubbed the back of his neck the best he could, attempting to move his shoulders, but the aches and pains continued. Diesel told Shawn to rub some medicine on them, but Shawn said he needed ice. Diesel had to go out to his match before he could offer anymore ideas, leaving Razor and Shawn in the locker room._

_"Raz," Shawn winced in pain. "Got any ice packs?"_

_"No, sorry," Razor finished lacing his boots and looked at Shawn. "I got some cool oil if you want some."_

_Shawn continued to rub his neck. "Thanks but no thanks. I'll pass this time."_

_A Referee came around the corner to speak to the men, but Razor was already out the door, knocking into the official. He and Diesel were teaming together for the night._

_"Good luck out there!" Shawn yelled to his friend, chuckling a little._

_As the minutes passed by, Shawn reached over and attempted to grab his bag, but the pain got worse. He winced and sat straight, letting the pain burn as bad as it could. He broke the tape on his wrists and unrolled it off both, sighing at the state he was in. Then, he heard someone enter the room and looked up, seeing the beautiful woman he went on a date with a week earlier._

_"Hey, Shawn," Sunny said, striding into the room as she looked at Shawn. "How's it going?"_

_"Good, I guess." Shawn winced._

_"That was an awesome match," Sunny kneeled down to Shawn's level and smiled at him. "I'm proud of you."_

_"For what?"_

_"For being such a good guy. You're so sweet__," Sunny placed her hand on Shawn's knee, causing Shawn to flinch back a little. "Are you nervous about something?"_

_"No," Shawn smiled a little. "I'm in a lot of pain right now."_

_Sunny leaned forward to see Shawn's sky blue eyes. "You want me to take the pain away?"_

_Shawn gulped. He didn't know what to think at this moment. He was feeling a lot of pain, but he didn't feel like he should be touched.  
__  
"I-I'm fine. Really, Sunny."_

_Sunny curled her lips and placed a hand on Shawn's face. "Don't worry. I'll be gentle."_

_Shawn watched as Sunny stood up and walked around towards his back. He breathed deeply just from the sound of her chuckles as she placed her hands on his shoulders and began messaging them easily. Shawn tensed up, feeling Sunny's hands rubbing his skin, the motions gentle like she said. Shawn closed his eyes, but eased a little tension when he felt Sunny's lips on his neck, kissing tenderly. When she stopped, the message got easier to get used to. Shawn smiled and sighed as the pains in his shoulders and neck began to ease off a little with every rub and stroke. Shawn breathed deeper when Sunny's hands trailed down his back._

_"Does that feel good, baby?" Sunny asked._

_Shawn closed his eyes again, the feeling of both Sunny's hands and the ease of his muscles warming him on the inside. He smiled a little as the feeling quickened._

_"Well?"_

_Shawn smiled brighter at Sunny's voice. "Yeah...it feels good."_

_Sunny smiled and leaned down to Shawn's ear, whispering, "I could do more than this, Shawn. I could make you free."_

_Shawn tensed up when Sunny's hands came off his shoulders and ran down his chest, stroking towards his stomach and back up._

_"I-I-"_

_"Yes, Shawn?"_

_"I enjoyed our date last week."_

_Sunny smiled, straightening up. "Glad you enjoyed it." __She smiled when she trailed her hands down Shawn's back again, Shawn leaning his head back at the feeling. "I had a great time, too. Shawn?"_

_"Yeah?"_

_"Have you ever been in love?" Sunny rubbed Shawn's shoulders gently again._

_"Of course, but I couldn't find it in me to approach them."_

_"That's why you looked so nervous when we met in the bar that night."_

_Shawn smiled. "I feel fine now."_

_"No, I think you deserve more after such a hard match."_

_Shawn leaned his head forward and Sunny kissed the back of his neck, not minding the strings of hair in the way. She chuckled under her kiss and Shawn chuckled a little too, his shoulders starting to move easier than before, lifting one of his arms to touch Sunny's face. Sunny kissed it._

_"We should do this more often." Sunny whispered._

_"No," Shawn said. "Maybe. It depends."_

_Sunny took Shawn's hand and put it towards his lap, then turned Shawn back around in the chair and placed her hand on his chest._

_"You hear that?" She asked._

_"What?"_

_"That's the sound of your nervous heart."_

_Shawn put his hand on top of hers. "I see that-"_

_"What the hell is going on in here?!" A voice screamed out of nowhere._

_Shawn looked up and saw a man standing in the doorway, the lights of the hall to bright to catch the man's face completely._

_"W-What are you doing here?" Sunny asked, backing away from Shawn's body._

_"I said what the hell's going on?!"_

_Shawn suddenly recognized the voice. "Bret?"_

_Bret stomped into the room and grabbed Shawn by the neck, throwing him out of the chair and on the floor back first. Shawn groaned from the impact and put his hands near Bret's collar to block off the man's punches if he was to throw any, but when Shawn looked into Bret's angry, green eyes, he gulped and felt his body shiver and melt like a puddle of water._

_"Bret, stop!" Sunny yelled._

_Bret tightened the grip on Shawn's neck, almost choking him. "What the hell are you doing with her?! Huh?!"_

_"W-What are you talking about?" Shawn whispered._

_"You know what the hell I'm talking about! Why are you with her?!"_

_Bret made a fist and Shawn cowered back the best he could, trying to dodge the blow if Bret wanted a fight. Bret grinned and chuckled, letting Shawn's neck go and sat up to look at Sunny._

_"I know what's going on...you're a little home-wrecker aren't you?"_

_"Bret...please...it's not what you think."_

_"Then why are you with this loser?! What were you doing, anyway?! It sounded like you two were having fun!"_

_"No, Bret," Sunny had tears roll down her face. "I was just giving him a message. That's all."_

_Shawn stayed on the floor, shocked at what he was hearing. He didn't have much to say. He sighed, but Bret suddenly grabbed his neck again and looked into his eyes, Bret's face angry as Shawn's was full of fear._

_"Stay away from her." Bret sneered, then let Shawn go, walking out the door in a huff._

_Sunny ran over to Shawn, who sat up, and grabbed Shawn's hand, but Shawn flinched his hand away._

_"Don't touch me."_

_"Shawn, I'm so sorry that happened to-"_

_Shawn put his hand up to silence her. "I think you should go, Sunny."_

_"Shawn-"_

_"Go!" Shawn pointed towards the door._

_"I'm sorry." Sunny whispered, sniffling as she walked slowly to the door and walked down the hallway._

_Shawn sighed and put his head in his hands, his mind full of anger and questions._

* * *

Shawn woke up to the sound of his alarm clock, grunting when he turned over and touched it with his hand, the music ending quickly. He looked at the clock and saw the time. 6:02 A.M.

He slowly got up and rubbed his eyes, but felt something under his cheekbone. He stopped and saw a the towel from the downstairs bar still wrapped around his arm, the sides full of dried blood. Shawn took off the towel gently and removed the bits of paper, from the bathroom, too, and found himself looking at two fresh scares he made on his skin, around the healing white scars going across, down, of sideways. Shawn looked at his other hand, the wrist with only a few healing cuts itself. He sighed and dropped his hands, throwing his legs over the bed and touching the floor. He grabbed the towel and paper and walked towards the bathroom. He happened to see his pants were still red from the drips of blood and happened to grab some clothes out of his bag.

He put the paper bits in the trash and threw the towel into a nearby hamper, where the hotel staff would come later to pick it up. He threw his old clothes on the floor and turned on the shower, seeing the smoke of the hot water as he entered.

Once he was used to the hot feeling, he looked at his wrists and the fresh cuts began to sting from the drops of water hitting them. Shawn tightened his jaw so he wouldn't yell out in pain. He put his mind on other things and started to wash off.

When he got finished, he slipped on some new clothes and brushed down his hair with his brush. He dreaded going to the arena tonight, since he and Bret were scheduled to have a confrontation in the ring. He tied his hair up with a hairband and grabbed his old clothes, placing them in his bag. He checked the pockets of his pants and felt a hard object. He took out the object and saw it was Razor's steel comb. He looked at it and almost rolled up his sleeve, that is, until someone gasped behind him.

Shawn turned around, his eyes wide. "Raz?"

Razor stood there, seeing Shawn with his comb. The one he had searched for two weeks now.

"Shawn, what the hell?"

"Raz, I can explain."

"You...you..."

Razor stomped over to Shawn and immediately grabbed him, throwing him on the bed, and held his wrists out to see the damage. Razor's face turned red and Shawn felt a stinging feeling on his face.

"You. Little. Lier." Razor punched Shawn as he spoke each word.

Shawn blocked the punches the best he could, but felt the force of Razor's huge frame against his and became outnumbered. Razor got off Shawn and looked at him.

"You said you weren't going to hurt yourself anymore! Let alone use my comb!"

Shawn touched his aching face. "I-I'm sorry."

"You took my comb without telling me every time!"

"I know," Shawn winced. "But I can explain-"

"You can't explain anything, Shawn. Bret's right about you. You're pathetic, and you're a child!"

"Raz, I-"

Shawn felt Razor's feet hit the floor, and Shawn cowered back, but was relieved when Razor picked up the steel comb and put it in his pocket. Shawn breathed deeply and felt his nose start to sting. He touched it, but winced back and saw blood on his fingertips. Razor walked over and grabbed Shawn by the hands, pulling roughly and forcing Shawn off the bed and towards the living room.

"Where are you taking me?!" Shawn yelled.

"I'm taking you to Diesel! He's gonna want to hear about this!"

"No! Please!"

"And after that, it's Vince's turn to hear the story!"

"No! No! Raz, please! I promise I wont do it again!"

"Too late, Shawn!"

"No!" Shawn grabbed the a corner of the doorway and held on to it. Razor pulled harder, but Shawn remained where he was, pleading and hoping that Diesel didn't have to know about this.

"Let go, Shawn! Let go!"

"I thought you were too drunk to even make it down here!"

"I slept it off! Now, come on!"

Shawn held on tighter, but his hands began to slip and he finally gave up. He felt Razor's arm around his shoulders tightly as Razor was mere inches in the hallway.

* * *

Just around the corner, Hunter and Kid were talking about the upcoming match until they spotted Razor and Shawn down the hall, Razor's arm over Shawn's small frame. Hunter noticed the look on Shawn's face and decided to wave at the two.

"Hey, guys," He said. "What's going on?"

"I'll tell you what's going on!" Razor stopped in the middle of the hall and pulled Shawn's hands out in front of him. Shawn tried to protest but it was too late.

Hunter and kid looked in shock at the multiple scars on Shawn's wrists.

"Good God." Kid said.

"Shawn...what happened?" Hunter asked.

"Tell 'em." Razor nudged Shawn in the arm.

Shawn looked at Razor, then at Hunter and Kid. His jaw tightened and his face turned hot in embarrassment and anger. He didn't want this to happen. He looked at the floor.

"I-I had an accident."

"He's lying." Razor said.

"I've never seen scars like those before." Kid said.

"What happened, Shawn? Tell us." Hunter pleaded.

Shawn looked at Hunter and Hunter nodded. Shawn felt a sting in his heart. After all, he had lied to him the night before.

"Please, Shawn. Don't tell me those scars..."

Shawn opened his mouth. "I-"

"He cuts himself." A deep voice spoke up.

Everyone turned around and saw Diesel standing behind the entire group. Shawn felt tears in his eyes.

"Diesel." Shawn sobbed.

"I'm sorry, Shawn." Diesel said. "But I knew what was going on when I heard all of you talking."

Shawn's jaw tightened again. This time, he didn't want to sob.


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24

Owen laid in the hotel bed as he watched his brother pack his bags for the next town. He knew he was in a hurry, but it seemed like Bret wanted to get to the arena faster.

"Don't just lay there, help me."

"In a minute, bro," Owen sighed. "I'm thinking."

"Well, quit your thinking and start packing or else I'm leaving you behind." Bret threw his clothes in the bag and zipped it up.

"Why are you in such a hurry, bro?"

Bret smirked. "You'll see."

Owen sighed and got off the bed, walking over to put his clothes in his bag. He looked around to find his bag and, when he turned around, Bret was laying in the same spot he was, his hands behind his head.

"Not funny." Owen whispered.

Bret chuckled. "Have a sense of humor, Owen. I need a break after such a long week."

"No brakes around here," Owen found his bag under the bed sheets. "And what are you talking about when you say you've had a long week?"

"Weeks go by slow, but the show just doesn't last fast enough." Bret sat up a little and held a pillow in his hands.

"Oh," Owen said. "You're happy about your match tonight."

"Yes, but I'm even more happy about Vince's idea to put me and little Shawn in a confrontation before the big one."

"The big one?"

"The match. Scheduled at the Pay-Per-View."

"Oh," Owen frowned. "Of course."

Bret sat up and clutched the pillow in his hands, looking at it while hearing his brother's bags being tossed with clothes and attires. Then, without thinking, he threw the pillow and it landed near Owen's feet. Owen looked at the pillow, then at his brother, who had a wide smile on his face.

"What was that about?" Owen felt uneasy.

"I just figured it out," Bret walked over to the coffee table. "We'll give little Shawn a lesson he'll never forget."

Bret chuckled and grabbed his bags, walking towards the front door and exiting the room. Owen stood where he was, shocked at his brother's intentions. He wanted to get out of this situation before it got out of control. He sighed and continued stuffing his bag, hoping to catch his brother before leaving the hotel.


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25

**1994**

_Shawn walked out of the shower and dried off, realizing the tears on his face were still there. He wiped off his face and quickly got into a t-shirt and blue jeans before walking into the bedroom and laying face first on the large bed. His whole body shook as he breathed deeper in the pillow. On the edge of the bed, Diesel looked at Shawn and shook his head, worried._

_"Shawn." Diesel said._

_Shawn moved slightly but didn't budge from his position. He mumbled against the pillow, "What?"_

_Diesel tapped Shawn's legs and said, "Forget about her, man. She was nothing but trouble anyway. Didn't you say she was showing off her dress to the waiter on your date? Or happened to drop an earring and picked it up in front of you?"_

_Shawn shrugged his shoulders and sighed, his breath hot against his face. Diesel looked down and slipped on his boots. Shawn mumbled something against the pillow, but Diesel couldn't catch the words._

_"Turn over, man. Quit being emotional and forget about this."_

_Shawn placed his hands on the pillow and grabbed it, then flipped his body over and covered his face with the pillow again. Diesel sighed and attempted to grab the pillow, but Shawn pulled back._

_"Your spoiled, Shawn."_

_"I am not." Shawn mumbled._

_"Whatever you say," Diesel got up and walked towards the door. "I'm going to see Razor and Jerry Lawler, alright? Raz said we're going out. Too bad you don't want to come."_

_Shawn crossed his arms over the pillow tighter and sighed, mumbling, "I don't want to go."_

_"I know, Shawn," Diesel made it to the kitchen and grabbed his hotel key. "I'll be back later. Don't do anything stupid while I'm gone, okay?"_

_Shawn breathed deep and heard the door close, finally having the room to himself. He released his grip on the pillow and breathed in the cool, fresh air. He began thinking of Sunny again._

_ The way she rubbed her hands down his chest after his match. When she whispered in his ear. When Bret stormed in and threatened them. It made him angry._

_Shawn felt broken because of Sunny. He trusted her and he let her down. If only he wasn't the one who danced with her that night in the bar, then maybe he wouldn't be feeling this pain._

* * *

_Sunny's heels clicked as she walked down the hall, passing the groups of superstars she knew well. One of them winked at her, but she looked away and continued to embrace the mixed feelings inside of her. She slowly passed a room and stopped in the middle of the hall, looking back at it. She sighed and walked towards the door, hesitating to knock but she did it anyway. The superstars talked and laughed in the far corners as Sunny waited for someone to answer._

_Just as she was about to walk away, someone did. Sunny turned and smiled wide at the man on the other side._

_"Hey." She whispered._

_"What do you want?"_

_"I-I just wanted to check on you," Sunny looked at the other superstars before placing a hand on the man's face. "That's all."_

_The man stepped aside and allowed Sunny to enter his room. Sunny smiled and entered the large hotel room, putting her hands together as the door closed behind her. She walked towards the kitchen, Bret not too far behind her._

_"So," Bret said. "You came to check on me, huh?"_

_Sunny nodded and said, "I knew you couldn't be waiting for me after what happened last week."_

_She approached Bret and placed her hands on his face, leaning him down and kissing him on the mouth. Bret returned the kisses and grabbed Sunny's arms and placed them around his waist. Sunny grinned as she continued kissing Bret, his hands touching her back and thighs gently. Bret pulled back and placed a hand on Sunny's face._

_"If you love me like you say you do, you'd get rid of that heartbreak loser and come back to me, otherwise, we have no future."_

_Sunny grinned. "I can't get rid of you, Bret. Not by a long shot."_

_"Then kiss me and prove it."_

_Sunny and Bret kissed and quickly found themselves embracing each other. Sunny gasped when she felt Bret's hands trail towards the zipper on her dress, pulling it down halfway, and jerked away, her heels loud on the hard floor._

_"What is it?" Bret asked._

_"I-I just realized," Sunny stuttered, walking towards the door. "I have to take care of something."_

_Bret scowled and grabbed her arm, pulling Sunny back towards him. Sunny gasped and tried to break free, but Bret's hands tightened harder._

_"Take care of what?"_

_"M-My bags for the show. I need to go pack them. I swear."_

_Bret looked at Sunny, angered, but let her go and walked into his bedroom, grabbing his bag and throwing it on the bed, then sat down. Sunny looked back at Bret before fixing her dress zipper and opened the door, entering the hallway now abandoned and empty._

* * *

_Walking down the hall, Sunny turned her head back to see if Bret happened to be following her. But every time she looked, no one else was around. She smiled lightly and passed a corner to an elevator. She waited for the doors to open and, when they did, she stared at the few superstars coming out. She ignored their whistles and quickly pushed the button on the elevator._

_When it came to a stop, Sunny prepared to exit the elevator. The doors opened, but Sunny stopped in place when Shawn stood on the other side._

_"Oh, Shawn," Sunny said. "How are you?"_

_Shawn stared at Sunny and entered the elevator, pushing the button._

_"I've tried to find you after what happened. I'm so-"_

_"Are you leaving or staying? 'Cause I'm not waiting any longer." Shawn's hands blocked the doors from moving, looking at Sunny._

_Sunny gulped. "I'm staying."_

_Shawn looked at Sunny before sighing and allowed the doors to close. After a long ten seconds in the elevator, Shawn got out and walked straight towards his room, hearing noises behind him. He saw Sunny was following him and turned around, ready to yell at her. His words didn't enter his throat when he saw how beautiful she looked, the silver dress and matching pair of high heels along with her blonde hair free on her shoulders. Her eyes fixed on his. Shawn sighed and walked back towards his room. He opened the door and waited for Sunny to enter. Instead, she waited outside his door and lightly smiled._

_"Do you want to come in?" Shawn managed to say._

_Sunny smiled and entered the room. Shawn closed the door and went back into the bedroom. Sunny waited for Shawn to come out as she moved towards the kitchen counter, seeing the coffee pot was full. She looked back towards the bedroom door, walking towards it with a sigh, seeing Shawn sitting down on the edge of the bed._

_Sunny walked slowly into the room and saw how Shawn was acting. His head lowered towards the floor as his hands covered his face, his body looking tense and uneasy. Sunny walked slowly towards the bed and down next to Shawn, who hadn't broke his stance, and sighed, placing a hand firmly on his back._

_"What's wrong, Shawn?" She asked, looking at him._

_Shawn removed his hands slowly, but didn't lift his head. "Nothing."_

_"You're lying," Sunny shook her head. "Somethings wrong. What is it?"_

_Sunny began rubbing Shawn's back, a rhythm that felt so good to Shawn. Shawn breathed deeply at the soft touch, his body shaking a little from the gentle strokes. He had never felt this way before._

_"Is it about what happened the other day?" Sunny frowned as she continued rubbing gently._

_Shawn nodded. "After what happened...I felt...hurt."_

_Sunny stopped rubbing Shawn's back and moved her hand to Shawn's face, turning it towards her, wanting him to look in her eyes._

_"Shawn," She said slowly. "I know how you felt. I felt the same way. It's okay."_

_With that, Sunny leaned in and kissed Shawn gently on his lips, Shawn following with his own kisses and soon pulled away, looking at the floor again._

_"Shawn?"_

_"I thought you were with Bret."_

_Sunny sighed deeply. "Shawn...look at me."_

_Shawn didn't want to, but, he did. Her beautiful eyes and face left him speechless. He wanted to protest, but couldn't find the words. He sighed instead, tears filling his eyes._

_"Don't cry, Shawn," Sunny whispered into his ear as she removed her hand from his face. "There's nothing between me and Bret. Not anymore. He's jealous."_

_Shawn looked at her from those words, but he still couldn't find the words to say. He sighed again and attempted to rub his eyes to remove the stinging tears. Sunny moved her own fingers across Shawn's eyes and quickly smiled at him._

_Shawn limply smiled, then, he spoke, "I hope not."_

_Sunny looked at Shawn as Shawn now looked at her, grabbing her hand with his._

_"Because I love you." Shawn whispered._

_Sunny smiled brightly, moving closer to Shawn. "I love you, too."_

_Shawn leaned in and kissed Sunny, who returned the kisses with deeper passion. Soon, Shawn found his hands slipping around her waist as he felt Sunny's hands around his neck. Then, he slowly picked her up and placed her on the bed._

**Stay Tuned. More Will Be On The Way Soon.**


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